I Am Sure I Imagined You
by vivamsmolly
Summary: If you met her, you'd never forget her. You probably shouldn't get involved but where else can you go when she feels like home? Sam and Mercedes meet in an usual way, each of them with their own problems to solve. Will they realize they were what the other needed all along? AU Samcedes fic with appearances by other Glee characters.
1. Dramatics

**_I don't own Glee._**

**__Since my other Samcedes fic "Tied to the Tracks" is almost finished, I decided to start a new one. I don't want to give away anything, but I will say that this story is mostly Samcedes and will feature other pairings as well. I might mess around with the description and genres some more as I see where the story goes. In the meantime, enjoy! and let me know what you think in the reviews. **

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_**I am focused, watching intently the performance that is you. I will sit in the front row, night after night, entranced by your histrionics, and I will never tire of the show.**  
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We met in the morning. We sat beside each other in the park as steady, panting joggers ran past, strollers moved purposefully over pebbles, and canines paraded anxiously by. She was reading the paper, ignoring the world around her. Her head down, she peered over the top of a pair of horn-rimmed glasses as her brown eyes jumped around the newsprint. Her hair was obsidian colored and fell gently onto her shoulders, brushing past the lapels of her black trench coat and hiding most of her rounded brown face.

She folded her paper and got up from the bench, not even giving me the courtesy of a glance. She walked off toward the street and I realized that she had abandoned her purse. I immediately got up and began swiftly walking after her, my arm wrapped protectively around the bag. She hadn't gotten very far and as I got closer to her, I noticed the sultry sway in her ample backside. I became so distracted by it that I was soon walking into her. When my loafers scraped the back of her black heels, she turned around and looked at me angrily.

I didn't notice her short stature until I was upon her, looming over her queerly. Despite my taller build, I felt small under her stare. She raised a black eyebrow at me, obviously annoyed that I had seemingly followed her and scuffed her expensive-looking shoe in the process. I gaped at her for a moment, taking in the deep red lipstick she wore on the lips that were currently twisted into a sneer. "Your purse," was all I managed to get out without any particular inflection. She looked down at the gray bag I was haphazardly holding in one hand and clumsily pushing toward her.

"That is not mine," she said curtly and began walking, quicker this time. I caught up and pushed the bag at her again.

"But you left it on the bench," I said, now panting in an attempt to keep her pace.

She stopped, swung her head around and huffed at me. Her nostrils flaring, she said, "Do you not get it?" I could clearly hear her voice this time. Her tone was steady and firm, laced with a slight roughness that rubbed against my ears and caused my cock to rub against my slacks. She continued, "The bag is not mine." She paused after every word, making sure I heard her clearly, before she turned and went off again. She reached the edge of the park and darted across the street before I could think to catch up with her, leaving me with a purse and a confused look on my face. I hugged the bag against my chest and stalked back to my office. I rode in the elevator counting the eighteen floors and absently running my fingers over the ridged leather of her purse.

Once inside the sanctity of my office, I laid the bag across my desk and examined it. I reached for it slowly as if it would explode from my touch and ran my fingers over the tasseled zipper. I wrapped my fingers around the tassel and pulled gently hearing the low roar of the zipper undoing itself. The bag parted and opened before me, displaying its contents proudly. I let my hands do the work, plunging inside of the bag and rummaging around until I felt the need to pull something out.

I started with a cylindrical tube, her lipstick. I removed the cap, carefully, and twisted the bottom half expecting a laser to shoot out and a hole to be blasted into the ceiling much like the gadget featured in the spy movie I fell asleep watching last night. I found no laser; the tube simply revealed a shade of lipstick similar to the one I observed on her plump lips minutes ago. I returned the lipstick to its previous state and sat the tube on my desk. I dove back into the bag, anxious of what I would find next, apprehensive of what I would find out about her. When her flowery scent wafted in my direction in the park I was immediately interested in this woman and in that moment I craved her and now, my soul ached for every piece of information I could find out about her. Had she not left her bag, my dreams would have been haunted by her and the fact that something as simple as her steady breaths and contended expression while reading the paper were enough for me to be afraid to even speak to her.

Condoms. She had condoms in her purse and instantly a pang of jealously hit me dead in the middle of my chest. It mattered to me who she was fucking. What schmuck was lucky enough to not only get within an inch of her but also to fucking be inside of her? Fuck him. Why not me?

I tossed the roll of three condoms aside and went back for more treasures. I found more makeup: mascara that was undoubtedly responsible for the long curled lashes she flicked at me in anger, a compact filled with powder that I guessed she didn't need judging by her soft-looking, glowing skin, and a thin black pencil that outlined her large brown eyes that needed no help standing out.

A leopard-handled switchblade was next. I slid it slowly out of my hand and paused, deciding whether to go back in. I was fearful of finding a more dangerous weapon but the excitement threatened to override the fear as I wondered what other surprises would be hiding in her bag. I opted for something hopefully safe, picking up the gray leather wallet with a large silver clasp on the front of it. I held it for a moment, feeling the weight of change, cash and cards in my palm before opening it and searching for some sort of identification.

"Mercedes Jones," I whispered into the stale air around me. I combed over the details on the plastic card looking for one piece of information in particular. I spotted her address after glazing past her height and eye color. I had already decided that I would attempt to find her home and return the bag in person. As I attempted to figure out the best way from my office to her home, a body appeared in my doorway opening the slightly ajar door and walking inside.

"Did you mug someone?" Noah Puckerman asked, coming to stand in front of my desk and disrupting my foraging. He stood with one hand in the pockets of his slacks and the other scratching his closely cropped head of hair. I had forgotten about our early afternoon meeting, the entire reason I had taken an early lunch, and now the reason I had met _her_. The ID tumbled from my grasp and down onto my desk. I quickly gathered the displaced contents of the bag and shoved them back into the pocketbook, but not before Noah grabbed the plastic card I was just examining.

"Who is _she_?" He asked, turning the card over in his hand, his hazel eyes lighting up as he inspected the woman depicted in the photo.

"I don't know yet."

"Well, let me know when you find out. If you don't want her, I'll slam dunk her tonight," he stated with a hungry lick of his lips. "What are you doing with her purse?"

"She left it in the park. I'm going to return it to her after work." I held out my hand for the ID, hoping he didn't have any real interest in her.

"Why didn't you give it to her earlier?" He placed the card into my awaiting palm and regarded me with a suspicious expression.

"I tried to. She wouldn't take it. She said it wasn't hers, but her face matches the ID, so it's obviously her bag."

Always one for the irrational Noah remarked, "Maybe she's got drugs in there and she thought you were a cop or something." We both chuckled at his idea but my laugh didn't last as long as I thought about why Mercedes wouldn't let me return her purse to her. I had barely said two words to her but she obviously thought of me as someone she didn't want to be near, as if my touch had tainted her bag and my returning it had ruined her day.

"I'm going to go by her house and return it after work."

"Isn't that a little creepy? Why don't you just mail it back to her?"

"Her whole life is in there, man. If lost my wallet I would want someone to bring it back to me. If they stopped by house I wouldn't be creeped out - I'd be grateful."

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged and nodded his head. "Maybe she'll even give you a reward," he added with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I rolled my eyes at his suggestion and stored the purse beneath my desk. I sat down and turned on my computer to start our meeting, eager to put Mercedes Jones out of my mind.

My workday couldn't end soon enough. I had the misfortune of having to sit through a thorough chewing out session with Puck after our meeting turned into his now ex-girlfriend, Sugar Motta, storming into my office and brandishing a pair of black panties she claimed weren't hers. Our boss, Jerahd Figgins, felt the situation required a lecture about professionalism in the work place. I tuned out most of the session. My only place in the argument was defending Puck because I knew for a fact that Sugar was the only girl my best friend was currently with. His luck was better than mine, seeing as my last date had been with a blonde woman whose lover showed up in the middle of the meal to claim the woman who was apparently hers.

"So, whose panties are they?" I asked Noah as we walked into the elevator at the end of the day. Another co-worker of ours, Tina Cohen-Chang, who had an office next to Figgins' and was privy to our lecture, joined us as we made our way to the lobby.

"Hell, man, you guys have met Sugar. She could have bought them yesterday and forgotten. I don't know who they belong to. They could be from one of my exes. I was living with a chick before I met Sugar but I doubt she thought about that."

"Yeah," Tina snorted, "that girl is about as deep as a puddle."

"Yeah," Noah replied with a smirk, "but she's twice as wet."

Each of us exited the elevator with laughter on our lips as we made our way to the parking lot.

"You knuckleheads have any plans for the weekend?" Tina asked when we reached her electric blue sedan, a similar color to the streaks in her jet-black hair. "I know it's only Thursday but I have to plan early with you two."

Noah slapped my shoulder and gave me a vigorous shake, "I think Sammy here is going to be busy with his mystery woman. What was her name again? Mercedes, right? That's sexy as shit, by the way."

I cringed at the fact that he remembered her name and tried to ignore his 'sexy' comment.

"Oooooh, mystery woman. Tell me more, Samuel," Tina teased jumping slightly at the possibility of gossip.

Before I could answer, Noah interjected, quickly spitting out the details of my encounter, "her name is Mercedes Jones. He found her purse in the park today and when he tried to give it back to her she wouldn't take it; she said it wasn't hers. Which, I was thinking, was some sort of sign for him to come and find her. She's 5'3, brown eyes, sleek black hair, lips you want to suck on for the rest of your life and -"

"Puck!" I shouted using his post 9 to 5 nickname. "I'm just going to return the bag and be out of her life forever. That's it."

Tina's face was scrunched up in an amused yet confused fashion as she watched the exchange between Noah and me. Finally she spoke, "Mercedes Jones," she pondered aloud, "that name sounds kind of familiar."

"Trust me," I said, forgetting that I should do anything possible to deter my newly-single friend from having any reason to be interested, "you'd remember her of you saw her. She had this amazing presence. I sat next to her for half an hour and she didn't say a damn thing to me but I was jittery as hell just being near her."

"Damn, sounds like I need to meet this chick." I noticed the all-too-familiar faraway look on Noah's face as he spoke. Biting his bottom lip he added, "You sure you don't want any company returning that bag?"

"No," I said quickly moving the purse closer to my person. "I got it; I'll call you and let you know how it goes."

With that, I held open Tina's car door for her and walked the short distance to where my black SUV was parked next to Noah's Silver convertible. I waved goodbye and got into my car, tucking the purse safely into the passenger seat. I entered her address into my GPS and headed towards _her_.

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**Thanks for reading! Feel free to let me know what you think (bad/good/etc). You can contact me here and I'm also on tumblr (vivamsmolly). **


	2. Attractions

**Hello again! I thought I should put up the second chapter because I do realize the first one is a little confusing. Everything will become clearer as we go along, but there will also new "mysteries" as we continue. Thank you for reading and please let me know what you think in the reviews. **

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**_Drawn to you like moth to flame, the fault, your demeanor. I have been summoned to you by a power I do not understand, but do not wish to anger._**

I rounded the block for the second time as I searched for the address, parking when I rode past an open space. Grabbing the purse from the front seat, I exited my vehicle and started toward the building.

_2654._

I walked up the broad stone stairs and stood in front of the stained glass doors. Taking a deep breath, I took a firm grip on the jewel-colored doorknob and opened the door. Mail boxes stood directly in front of me, each adorned with a shiny silver nameplate assigning the box to a residency.

_Jones,_ it read simply on the box for apartment F. I wandered down a long, narrow hallway, dragging a hand along the textured wallpaper and appreciating the soft carpeting beneath my feet. Passing apartments A-D and coming to the end of the hall, I soon realized that the Jones residence would be upstairs. I made my way to the elevator and was quickly dropped off at the second floor soon after I pressed the embossed button. The decor of the second floor was the same as the first; several feet of thick cream wallpaper and lush brown carpeting separated each of the four doors.

Apartment F stood at the end of the hall, next to a large window adorned with thick curtains and several small potted plants sitting on the sill of it. I stared out the window for a moment, wondering how I ended up stalking this woman home. From going through her bag, I already knew more about her than I should have and I felt nervous as I rapped quietly on her door, hoping she wouldn't be home and I wouldn't be forced to explain how I ended up at her home.

I breathed in and out heavily, promising myself that I would be cool if she opened the door. I promised that I wouldn't stumble and stutter as I did in the park earlier. I would be firm with her and if she denied the purse again, I would simply leave it on the thick welcome mat that currently cushioned my stance. My heart jumped as I thought about the possibility of this being some elaborate set up. I wondered what my family, my friends, my co-workers would think when they read the story in the paper detailing how I had come to my untimely demise at the hands of the mentally unstable woman who lured unsuspecting men into her apartment by baiting them with a forgotten purse. I had taken the bait and I figured it was entirely possible that I would soon end up in pieces in her refrigerator.

"Come in," she said as soon as the door parted.

"I-I-I-." Again, I stammered in her presence. Again, I found myself staring at those round brown eyes of hers and losing all will to think properly. The black trench coat from before was gone and it was replaced with a simple t-shirt and worn jeans. She looked just as beautiful as she did in the park and I had to swallow hard to try to force a complete sentence from my mouth. She walked away from the door, leaving it open and revealing her well-decorated apartment. I stood in the doorframe, still clutching the purse and attempting to find something to say.

"You can come in," she insisted again, as she moved out of the lavish living room area and disappeared into an archway. I quickly moved into the apartment and shut the door behind me. I followed her exact path from the door to the archway, stepping into the foyer where I spotted her black trench coat hanging neatly from a thick coat rack. I moved carefully over the dark wooden hardwood floors, taking in my surroundings just in case I would have to describe the place in a police report somewhere down the line. I noted a large tan couch flanked by ornate golden floor lamps, a dark wooden coffee table, and two overstuffed wing chairs to match the couch. There was a fireplace in front of the couch that sat beneath a gold-framed painting of a cityscape and sparsely decorated mantle. On the opposite wall, there were three windows, with a chaise in front of the middle one where one could sit and watch the street below.

I found her once I stepped through the archway. She stood with her back to me, hovering over a silver stove, her backside jiggling as her arm moved vigorously to stir a stainless steel pot.

"Your purse," I uttered so quietly I wasn't sure she heard. Her stirring slowed and her shoulders dropped notably.

"Have you ever just wanted to be someone else?" she questioned, her stirring slowing almost to the point of stopping.

"I don't know what you mean," I mumbled, sitting her bag on the breakfast bar separating the two of us.

"There are just times—times when I just want to leave everything here and just pick up and go somewhere else—anywhere, really. It could be fucking Siberia for all I care, just so long as they don't know anything about the piece of shit I currently am."

"I'm sure you're not a piece of-"

"No," she said sternly. "I am." She continued to stir at her previous brisk pace, still not turning to face me as she began to speak again. "I'm sorry you had to come all the way here. I should have taken the bag from you earlier. I just didn't want it; I didn't want to be her anymore."

I shifted uncomfortably and even surprised myself when I continued to speak to her. I thought I should have departed, that I should have left her alone to wallow in whatever was the matter because it was none of my business. However, something about the short, obviously broken woman in front of me drew me to her. "What's so bad about Mercedes?" I inquired, moving to stand closer behind her.

She turned to look at me, her hair swiping gently across her shoulder as she did. I wanted to reach for her, to pull her into me and make whatever was wrong with her disappear. I didn't know what I could do to fix her problems but dammit if I didn't want to try.

She gave me a weak smile before answering, "The least I can do is feed you since you came all the way here. Would you like to have dinner with me?"

The word no was already leaving my lips before I could think about whether I actually wanted to say yes. "No, I couldn't impose. I'll just get out of your hair." I moved back toward the archway and got a foot from the black tile in the kitchen onto the hardwood before I felt a small hand clutching my sleeve. I turned to her immediately, grateful, as I was not quite ready to leave her presence.

"I insist," she stated with a brighter, more sincere smile. "I really feel like I owe you for today. I was kind of mean and I feel really bad about it so let me make it up to you. We can call it even after we eat, okay?"

I nodded, allowing her to lead me back into the kitchen by my sleeve and seat me at the breakfast bar. She removed my coat and disappeared back into the living room. I prayed she didn't notice the hitch in my breath on the slight tremble of my shoulders as she slid the pea coat from my body.

When she left, I took in the kitchen, noting the gleaming silver appliances and dark granite counter tops. The entire place looked both sterile and homey at the same time. Small touches around the kitchen including a full basket of fruit; a round table with room for four and decorated with stark purple place-mats and matching cushions on each black chair; and magnets arranged neatly on the two-door refrigerator all gave the kitchen the feel of being a well-inhabited one.

"I hope you like Chicken Alfredo," she chimed, entering the room again and crossing directly to the stove where she continued to tend to her pots.

"I love it," I confessed, tapping my fingers idly against the counter top in front of me. I watched as she combined the Alfredo sauce with the pot of noodles and mixed them together. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"I'm just about done here but there's wine in the fridge," she said pointing toward the appliance. "You could open that for me." I quickly got up and opened the fridge. I let out a small breath of relief, happy to have not discovered any body parts. All I found was the normal refrigerator fare: milk, juice, eggs, cheese, and leftovers, nothing out of the ordinary. Most of these same things were in my own home (minus the leftovers and add various takeout boxes), so I quickly judged her not to be a murderous psychopath as I removed the wine and sat it on the counter. She was waiting for me with an electric wine opener. I placed it on the top of the bottle and pressed the button down. The device whirred as it worked into the cork then came to an abrupt stop. I pulled at it, unsure of how to remove it from the bottle.

She finished placing the meal into a serving dish and regarded my struggle with an amused smile. "Here," she said placing her hand on top of mine. "Let me help you." I don't know what it was that went through my body when I felt her warm palm lay atop my clammy hand but it shocked me. Her shoulder grazed my arm as she showed me how to press the rocking button in the other direction until it stopped to dislodge the cork. She removed the opener from the bottle, my hand still in hers, and pressed the button down again to release the cork into her awaiting palm. "The glasses are in the cabinet above the sink. I'll set the table." As quickly as she was at my side, she was away again leaving cold space in the air her body used to occupy.

"I feel kind of silly asking this, because I should have asked you earlier, but what's your name?" she inquired politely, preparing two spots for us at the table. I walked over with the bottle of wine and two glasses, setting them down gently and pouring half glasses of wine for each of us.

"Samuel, actually, just Sam," I said, immediately correcting what I felt to be an unnecessary formality.

"It's very nice to meet you, Sam," she stated, extending her hand to mine. "I'm Mercedes but you already knew that."

We shared a firm handshake before I pulled out a chair for her and took my place beside her. "Yeah, I'm sorry." I hesitated before I spoke again, needing to be honest with her I said, "I sort of went through your purse." I shut my eyes halfway through the statement, preparing myself to be called any sort of name that would fit my actions.

When I reopened my eyes, she only smiled as she put a serving of the pasta dish onto each of our plates. She stared down, speaking to the steam rising from her plate, "That's okay; I already figured that you did because you ended up here. Since you were nice enough to run after me, I didn't peg you as the type to just leave the purse in the park."

"No, I couldn't leave it. I kept thinking about how I'd feel if I lost my wallet or something."

She looked up at me finally, "I really appreciate you returning it. Thank you."

"You're welcome," I said before digging into the dish.

_I don't know when the mood changed. _

Somewhere between more dinner and wine, and empty plates of cheesecake sitting on the coffee table, she had stopped regarding me with half smiles and slight glances. After my first serving of the chicken and pasta dish, she smiled at me openly as she scooped another helping onto my plate. After her second glass of wine, she gripped my arm in a fit of laughter as I told her about my day at work, about my friend Puck, and his ex-girlfriend storming into the office. After my second glass of wine, we moved into the living room, settling closely beside each other as we dove into the rich, strawberry-topped dessert.

At some point in the evening, I had placed an arm around her shoulder as we sat in contended silence watching the fire lapping at the iron cover on the fireplace. She leaned against me, her feet curled beneath her and a hand resting on my chest, stroking my loosened tie. I rubbed my chin against her soft hair trying to place what type of berry her shampoo was made of.

"You never answered my question," I stated, feeling a sudden surge of confidence with her in my arms.

She leaned slightly away from me to meet my eyes, "Which one?"

"What's so bad about Mercedes?" I felt the need to know. The Mercedes that I had spent the last three hours with didn't seem at all bad to me. She was completely unlike the cold, unapproachable woman I met in the park. This Mercedes was sweet and inviting. This Mercedes was _warm_. With each passing minute, I began to forget about our earlier encounter and focus on the fact that I had quickly become comfortable with her. I wanted to be near her, to spend evenings after work unwinding, detailing my day, and gushing about her cooking prowess. I liked the woman I had met in a bizarre situation and I couldn't understand why she didn't like her too.

She sighed as she placed her head back down on my shoulder. "Mercedes isn't a good person," she admitted cryptically.

Judging by her sudden change in mood, I thought it best not to pry any further.

She was silent for some time, before continuing without being prompted. "She's selfish. She doesn't always consider other people's feelings when she makes decisions. She _lies_. She steals things—people that aren't hers. You don't want to know her." Her voice cracked and I could feel her heated tears dampening my shirt. I pulled her tighter to me, holding her heaving body with both arms as her cheerful disposition shattered in my embrace.

She jerked away from me suddenly, wiping her face and pushing herself up from the couch. More tears coated the apples of her cheeks as she tried to banish them from her skin, "I'm sorry," she apologized timidly. "I feel like I'm holding you hostage. I should really let you go. Thank you again." I reached out and stopped her as she moved toward the foyer, probably to grab my coat.

_I wasn't ready to leave. _

I didn't want to walk back down the empty hall and go back to the apartment that didn't smell of home-cooked food, sweet wine, and flowery perfume. Also, if having younger siblings had taught me anything, it was that you should never leave someone alone to cry if you felt to any degree that they needed you. I felt that Mercedes needed me. When I noticed the lack of pictures around her home, the large amount of leftover food in her fridge, and a coat rack that held only one coat before she placed mine, I knew that she lived alone. I would have felt guilty leaving after I goaded her into a conversation that ended in her crying with no one to comfort her after I had gone.

I reached for her, pulling her back down to the couch and back into my arms. She didn't fight me as I expected. Instead, she folded into me, allowing the sobs to overtake her body fully while I rubbed her back soothingly.

I don't know how long I slept on her couch but when I awoke, Mercedes was gone and I was covered in a thick brown throw. I moved the blanket from my person and folded it neatly before laying it next to me on the couch. I stood up, stretching as I crossed to the kitchen to look for Mercedes. The living room windows revealed that morning had come but the sun was not out. Heavy droplets of rain beat against the windows and the fully clouded skies darkened the room. I found the kitchen empty, as well as the adjoining dining room, and bathroom. I walked back into the living room and down a short hallway to her bedroom. I knocked on the door. Receiving no answer, I opened the door slowly announcing myself as I walked in. The room was empty, her bed made and the lights off. I checked the master closet and bathroom and still found no trace of her presence. I shouted her name as I walked back into the living room before I gathered that she was, for whatever reason, gone.

Checking the time, I noticed that it was slightly after seven. I gathered that there was no way I could make it to work on time so I decided to put on my best unwell voice and use one of the many sick days I accumulated in my four years of employment. I sent Puck a quick text, letting him know I wouldn't be in, then sat back down on the living room sofa to wait for Mercedes, figuring that she would have to come back soon.

_Who would leave a stranger in their apartment all day? _

Before I could think of an answer to my own question, I heard a knock at the door. I jumped up and paced briefly, deciding if I should answer. It was probably Mercedes. Maybe she had run to the store, and her hands were full, and that's why she was knocking. I accepted the reasoning but was forced to quickly abandon it when a look through the peephole revealed a tall, soaked Asian man.

"Where is she?" the drenched man asked before I could muster a hello after opening the door. His eyes were puffy and even the rain did nothing to hide the fact that he was crying. I shrugged my shoulders aware that he meant Mercedes but unable to help him.

"I don't know," I admitted, peering around the man hoping that maybe Mercedes had come in after he had.

He eyed me suspiciously before asking, "She's not here?"

"No."

He shook some of the water from his coat as he peeked into the apartment behind me. "Who are you?"

"I could ask you the same question."

He ran a hand over his slick black hair, flinging droplets of water on the mat below and gave a dry laugh before answering. "It doesn't even matter. I'm standing here talking to you like you're fucking important to her. You don't matter. You're just another face."

I felt my fists clenching before I could understand why the man at the door was suddenly pissing me off. "Hey, fuck you. You do-"

He cut me off by placing a wet hand into the air between us. "Stop," he commanded, his voice firm and unwavering. Let me just give you a piece of advice: leave. You'll regret it if you don't." He turned to do just that and began to walk down the hall. He stopped suddenly, not turning around as he spoke to me, "Tell Mercedes that she can't treat people like this and that I'm done being her doormat." He walked a few steps further before turning his head to look back at me with a sad expression and fresh tears dripping from his eyes. Running a wet sleeve across his face he said, "Tell her that I'll be at our usual place if she wants to find me."

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**I hope that cleared up a few things (not too many because I'm kind of evil like that). I want to know your theories! Who is the Asian man and what is he to Mercedes? Where did Mercedes go? Let me know what you're thinking! See you in the next chapter**


	3. First Impressions

**Still don't own anything.**

**So most of you guessed that the guy at the door was Mike. Good job! Things will get harder from here on out as more things are revealed. I read all of the reviews, I hear your questions and I will try to answer them somewhere in the story. Please keep the guesses for the direction of the story coming in the reviews and let me know what you're thinking! **

**In this chapter we'll learn a little about Mike and Mercedes' history.**_** For future reference: Chapters/Sections in italics are past events.**_

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_**Falling implies some sort of accidental action. When you admit that you fell, you admit that you have encountered and succumbed to some coincidental occurrence. I did not fall for you; I leapt. Assuredly. Doubtlessly.**_

_It was not like me to be in a bar on a Tuesday night, buzzed and alone. Not like me to leave the house with no plan, no destination, and no wedding ring. I didn't know who the man in my body was that kept slowing down when driving past the street-walkers, giving them each a good once over before hitting the gas and scouring the sidewalks for the next one. Whoever he was, he promised me that at some point he would find the courage to pull over. _

_I kept gazing into my rear-view mirror, meeting my own brown eyes and wondering, 'Who the fuck are you?'_

_Existential crisis aside, I wanted to be anyone else. Wanted to be with anyone else._ _My usual self had been boring the shit out of me and it was time for a change. I started my day with a new tie, a bright green gift from my little brother last Christmas that my stuffy secretary felt the need to scoff at when I walked into the office. I hoped to end my day with a new person in my life and, if I was lucky, in my bed._ _I was sure I of what I wanted but didn't know how to get it. _

_All of my questions were still unanswered when I pulled into the parking lot at McKinley's. Through the luck of a couple random turns down a couple of random streets I ended up in the little piano bar clear across town, flagging down the brown-haired waitress for the third time requesting that she bring another shot of whiskey to my table._

_She brought the whiskey and left with a $50 tip. She thanked me graciously, tucking the money into her bra. I shrugged at her gratefulness, ignoring the crass gesture, and waved her away as she sat the drink down. Hell, I could afford a_ _**thousand**_ _dollar tip if I felt the need to leave one. Money was nothing to me and $50 was a small price to pay for decent whiskey and an interesting place to enjoy it. I decided this would be my last glass, that I would go back home and crawl into bed after the fruitless night._

_My mind was all made up until I saw her. I scooted my chair out, ready to leave, until she stepped onto the stage. I froze, my hands gripping the seat beneath me as I watched her. The bespectacled and wheelchair seated pianist introduced her simply as Diana. I said the name to myself, just a whisper into the suddenly bustling crowd of people that clamored for seats near the stage. The woman who walked onto it demanded the attention of every pair of eyes in the room. I glanced around quickly, watching as even the bartender stopped mid-pour to admire the thick legs in a pair of strappy heels and a swishy skirt that brushed her chocolate thighs with every step._ _She kissed the pianist lightly on the cheek before swaying to the microphone._

_I traced my way up her body, taking in every curve as she adjusted the microphone stand to her liking. I admired the soft-looking thighs her skirt exposed and the hips they were attached to. I raked over her bountiful breasts and soon found my way to the most plump pair of lips I'd ever set eyes on. Immediately I wanted her mouth against my own, hot and wet and moaning my name in severed breaths as I had my way with her body, pleasuring her into submission._

_"Good evening," she said in a sweet, shy voice before turning to the pianist and signaling him to begin playing. With a nod, he turned his focus to the keys, his fingers gliding over the instrument like an extension of his own body._

_The next sounds I heard put me into a trance I swore I never came out of._

_When Diana's voice poured from her mouth, my entire body tensed at the foreign yet immediately pleasurable sound. Each note she sang inflected perfectly against my ears, massaging them with the dulcet tones. She lulled me into a state of awestruck arousal. When she finished I was breathless, bringing my hands together to clap seemed to take a large amount of effort as I pushed my palms back and forth against one another. She went right into a second song and then a third, all tunes I didn't know but wanted to spend the rest of my life listening to._

_Once she left the stage, I waited, glued to my chair and unable to move in her direction. She flitted around from table to table like a hostess instead of just a lounge singer. I watched her closely, flirting with one person or another, listening intently to whatever it was they babbled on about._

_I downed the last of my whiskey in an attempt to take my eyes off of her but I only ended up watching her through the bottom of my clouded glass._

_She stopped at the table directly in front of mine to hug some dim-looking giant in a sharp black suit. She thanked him for something and he offered to buy her a drink. She declined and slowly turned in my direction. I braced myself against the table as she sat down across from me._

_Her voice oozed from her lips, slow and sultry, she asked, "What's your name?"__ Gone were the mild sounds of her introduction to the crowd. Her voice slipped into my ears, slinking its way into a permanent spot in my memory._

_My mouth went dry but I somehow managed to push the words "Mike," from my mouth._

_"It's nice to meet you, Mike. I'm Cedes." She extended a hand to me and I cautiously released my grip on the table and wrapped my hand around hers in a firm handshake._

_"I thought your name was-"_

_"Diana? It's just a stage name, honey, a little homage to one of my favorites. Obviously, I'm not doing my namesake any justice considering the fact that you have yet to commend me on my performance or offer to buy me a drink."_

_"Don't be fooled, Cedes," the name rolled from my tongue effortlessly as if I had been saying it my whole life, "I think you captured every heart in this room, including my own. As for that drink, I didn't want to offend you since you told your friend over there no."_

_"We're not drinking tonight, are we Finnie?" she asked, addressing, but never turning toward, the giant behind her. He watched the two of us talking, focused on me as we spoke._

_"No Ma'am,"_ _he stated with a shake of his head._

_"You see Mike, if I let Finnie buy me a drink it won't be long until he's chugging back a few himself and I would hate for that lovely little girlfriend of his to have to drill into him if I dropped him off drunk on her doorstep again. I barely know the girl, but from what I've heard, she's a peach and I wouldn't want to upset the sweet thing. So we're going to be good tonight, aren't we Finnie?"_

_A slow smile crept across his face as he answered, "We always are."_

_I beckoned the waitress once again, only taking my eyes off of Cedes long enough to signal the woman over. When she arrived, she smiled at Cedes warmly._

_"Another whiskey?" She asked, turning in my direction._

_"Sure, and for the lady-"_

_"Whiskey sour," the waitress finished, giving Cedes a flirtatious wink._

Cedes _pursed her plump lips and nodded giving a sugary "Thanks, darlin'," as the woman walked away with a little more pep in her step than before._

_Three whiskey sours later, I had Cedes shoved against the wall of the handicap stall in the men's restroom pumping in and out of her at a pace I didn't know I was capable of. She had already shuddered through her first orgasm and by the way she clawed my back and writhed mercilessly against my hips, I could tell another one was coming. The little fringes on her skirt tickled my exposed stomach as I moved against her, pushing as far in as her tight walls would let me. With every stroke she pushed me out and I had to work my way back in to get more of her. The effort was more than worth it as she squeezed around me, her core pulsating, beating, throbbing._

_She came again, harder, more pronounced and as I watched her eyes roll to the ceiling and her long eyelashes dip and flutter against her cheeks_, _I wanted to tell her I loved her. I didn't. But I wanted to say it none the less. The feel of her around me, my cock drenched in her juices, her warm thighs gripping my torso, her lips nibbling on any piece of my flesh she could attach to; every little bit of her felt like her body belonged with mine and even after I came I continued to pump inside of her, desperate for more. I flinched at the pain but instead of letting go I gripped her tighter to me, meeting her lips again and again in sloppy whiskey-flavored kisses._

_"I need - I want your phone number. I'd really like to get to know you, Cedes," I admitted once I had summoned the strength to let her go. For the last few moments I had been watching her dress, admiring her every move as she smoothed her long dark hair in the mirror and re-applied her lipstick. By the time she finished, you wouldn't know that the two of us had fucked if it wasn't for my swollen lips, the dark red lipstick stains on my collar, and the little fresh scratches on my chest._

_She fluffed her hair one last time before going toward the door. "You know me well enough already, sweetie," she said exiting, and leaving me with my pants still around my ankles and my limp cock in my palm._

_When I came out of the bathroom, she was arm and arm with the giant walking toward the door. I made my way after her but remembered the drinks I hadn't yet paid for as I passed the waitress counting her tips. I didn't think twice and immediately called after Cedes. She turned her head and acknowledged me with a grin before allowing herself to be led out of the door. I dropped another fifty-dollar bill with the waitress and rushed outside just in time to see the red taillights of a blue sedan turning out of the parking lot._

_A week later, I was back at McKinley's. Back at the same table watching Cedes take and leave the stage. Watching her flutter around the room again and waiting patiently until she came upon me, silently grabbing my hand and leading me to the restroom._

_A month later, I was waiting for her in a hotel room, naked beneath a heavy comforter, my heart rate uncontrollable as I listened closely for the sound of her_ _key card_ _being accepted and the clicking that would follow as the door unlocked._

_Five months later, she was asking where I lived. She wanted to know why we always ended up in hotel rooms instead of my home or hers. She had been suspicious ever since she noticed the indentation on my ring finger. I was always sure never to wear my wedding ring around the woman I had professed my love for only a month after meeting her but that didn't stop her suspicions._

_I did my best to distract her with gifts and declarations of my devotion. I gave my Cedes the best of everything. I bought her a little red sports car for her birthday and whenever we went out it was only to the finest of establishments after which we'd lay our heads in five star hotels. But all of this happened two towns over where I wouldn't run into anyone I knew. I claimed that I didn't want to share her, that I didn't want anyone in our business, that our relationship was too new for it to be the subject of paltry gossip. These things weren't far from the truth though they paled in comparison to what I was actually keeping_ _from Mercedes._

_In our shitty little city, my name was too big for me to be seen with Mercedes as often as I was. I wanted to spend every waking moment with her but between my duties at work and my duties at home I could only see her once a week. She understood that I was busy, that the vacations and the diamond bracelets didn't pay for themselves, so if I told her I was working late she always believed me._ _She said that she didn't need the things I purchased for her, that she'd trade anything in the world for a little time with me._

_I'd trade anything in the world for the rest of my life with her._

_I became a man split in two. Half of me elated with Mercedes and the other half disgruntled with my wife. I didn't hate her, I never could but I was never glad to spend time with her. I accepted that I had to. I was obligated to do so by the social contract we signed in front of God, our families, and the society pages. So if I had to take my wife to dinner or escort her to some mindless country club or charity event, I did it without a complaint. I'd listen halfheartedly to the conversations around me that were always the same. Always about money, about assets, about the dirt the people sitting two tables over were doing. I didn't care about any of it. All I cared about was the buzzing of my phone and the dirty messages my Cedes would send me every couple of hours telling me how she missed me and what she'd do to me when she saw me._

_I reasoned that I couldn't stop her from finding out. I knew eventually that she would. That there would be nothing I could do to stop that from happening but I would always wish that I could have told her in some other manner._

_I was exhausted and somewhat unaware after an overnight flight when I showed up at her apartment. I had been gone for two weeks and as soon as I stepped back into town I was on my way to her doorstep before I could understand why._

_She moaned loudly, as I slipped two fingers inside of her as soon I slammed the door behind us. It wasn't long before she was begging for a third finger and that was when she felt the ring I had forgotten to take off. She grabbed my wrist mid-stroke and brought my sticky fingers to her face. She removed the ring from my finger, covering it in her essence and held it close to her eyes, examining the platinum band, and then squinting to read the inscription._

_"With all my love. Forever and ever," she said over and over again each time with more disgust in her voice than the last. Those were only words you'd see on a wedding band or hear in your vows after you paid one of your more competent friends to write them for you when you couldn't come up with a single romantic thing to say to the woman you were to spend the rest of your life with._

_I couldn't lie to her despite the fact that there were a thousand lies running through my mind, each a deft explanation as to why I had been wearing the ring._

_'I wear it for my clients. People are more likely to trust a lawyer they think is married.'_

_'It belonged to my father. He passed when I was child; I wear it sometimes to remember him.'_

_'I bought it in a pawn shop. I liked the inscription.'_

_After an hour of yelling and screaming at one another, she was throwing me out. I sat outside her door all day, calling her name and needing her to forgive me. She never came out of the apartment and after too many hours alternating between calling her, banging on her door, and sitting and waiting, I finally took my leave. I walked away but little did my Cedes know that I'd be back. I loved her and I wouldn't leave her without a fight._

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**If you have any burning questions, please feel free to ask them on my tumblr (vivamsmolly). I think I will be more likely to respond there or through a private message (since I was too slow to realize that I could reply to reviews…). Next chapter goes back to Sam and back to the present. In the meantime, don't forget to review! Thanks for reading!**


	4. Deliberations

I don't glee, just the story you see.

**Hi again, I'm deciding not to be so chatty in my author notes so I'll keep it brief. In this chapter, we're back to Sam and what he does after Mike leaves. **

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**_My mind serves as nothing more than a switch. I am thinking about you or I am not thinking about you. The switch is stuck and I have neither the desire nor the tools to fix it._**

_Just another face._ I replayed the statement in my head repeatedly as I sat wringing my hands together on Mercedes' couch. I didn't forget anything the mystery man had said to me but for some reason those words rang louder than anything else. I had only known Mercedes for 24 hours so I was sure I didn't actually mean anything to her - yet - but the man assumed I thought otherwise. What did _he_ mean to Mercedes? What could _I_ mean to Mercedes? Did she do this all the time? Did she make a habit of bringing home strangers and letting them fall asleep on her couch and disappearing on them the next morning? Where was she? And why the hell was I still waiting for her?

"Fuck," I whispered to myself, still nagging about the confusing situation. It was 10 AM when I finally removed myself from Mercedes' apartment. After cleaning our dishes from last night and putting them away in her organized kitchen, I grabbed my coat from the rack where her trench coat was no longer hanging and reached for the doorknob. I paused, I cursed again, and I turned back around and walked straight to the kitchen. Last night, I had first noticed the message pad and pen that were snugly attached to the fridge with magnets. I grabbed the pen and scrawled a note on the pad. I read it over, once, twice, then ripped it from the pad, balled it up, and put it in my pocket. My next note was simpler.

_**Had a great time last night. If you ever need me again, please call.**_

_**Sam**_

I left my phone number beneath my name. I took a deep breath and walked out thinking about how my fate hung on ten little digits and her desire to dial them.

I didn't go straight home. Instead, I stopped by the grocery store and wandered the aisles, trying to figure out how I could make Chicken Alfredo. I knew I needed chicken and I needed Alfredo; everything else was a clouded mess of sauces and spices. I knew whatever I came up with wouldn't compare to Mercedes' dish. I stared blankly at the shelves of spices and additives wondering what I could sprinkle on or add a pinch of to make it taste like last night.

_I wouldn't need any of those things if I had Mercedes_.

Maybe if I had waited a little longer I could have asked Mercedes for the recipe. Maybe I could go back. Maybe she'd apologize for leaving in the middle of the night. Maybe she'd make dinner again and we could sit on her couch and watch her fireplace and not say a thing to one another and just be happy to have company for an evening. I remembered her leftovers, her lonely coat and I wondered, _is she as lonely as I am?_

Probably not.

I almost abandoned the items thrown into my cart and rushed back to her. Three times I did this and on the third time I made it out of the door and halfway to my car before I turned back around.

"Don't," I commanded in the sternest voice I could muster. I didn't even believe myself as I forced my body in the direction of the grocery store and back to the cart I left parked near the pasta.

I still remembered the route to her house. It wasn't far from my own and if I stayed straight instead of making a turn here or there I would have been outside of her door again - with her again. If she happened to be home, I could be back on her couch, with her curled up in my arms and the warm feeling that rose through my body and settled in my chest.

With a grimace, I pulled up to my own home, grabbed the bags of groceries and lugged them up the stairs. I shoved the bags directly into the fridge, not caring whether or not things like bread, pop tarts, and chips belonged in there. I settled on my own couch, black and plain, and stained from lonely nights where delivered food and mature television content were my only companions.

"Stop thinking about her," I ordered myself as I fell against the back cushion. Two hands over my face, blocking my sight and bringing on more visions of the woman whose company I would trade anything in my eerily quiet apartment for.

At first, I thought maybe a couple hours of TV would help. Thought that zoning out to whatever daytime talk show or soap opera happened to be on my TV would help to remove her from my mind; no such luck. As I watched a woman lament about her out of control teenager and the fact that the child would leave the house every night, lying to her parents about her whereabouts or not telling them where she would be at all, I drifted back to Mercedes.

Maybe eating would help. I had completely forgotten about breakfast and it was well past my usual lunchtime when I lumbered into the kitchen and prepared myself a sandwich. I stood at the counter and ate it. Not bothering to sit at the lopsided table in the kitchen, currently being held up by a poker chip under the shorter leg, whose only occupants were ever Puck and I, and occasionally Tina who would always drag the chair from my office if she had decided to join us. I needed a new table. I could certainly afford one but what I was buying it for? I rarely had company and as long as the poker chip stayed in place, the table wasn't an issue. I had no one to impress, no one to show off for. Therefore, my money stayed in the bank where I didn't dare spend it on something as frivolous as new furniture.

Then I thought a shower would work. I ended up masturbating. As I washed my hair, I thought about her scent and how it was still stuck with me, still stuck _on_ me. _Raspberry_;that was the scent I couldn't place last night. The soft hair that tickled my chin as she rested against my chest smelled of raspberries and I had never in my life smelled anything sweeter.

Feeling up and down my own body and pretending that my hands were hers - the same little hands that gently pulled my coat from my body, helped me with the complicated wine opener, grabbed my arm during dinner, and stroked my tie while we sat on the couch – I easily rubbed myself into a hard-on. I wanted those hands, and the woman attached to them in my shower, on my little black couch, on the thin, rough gray carpet that ran through my home, and anywhere else she'd let me have her.

I gave in to the visions of her as I stroked my cock. Thought about her plump mouth, curled in smiles when I managed to amuse her or being dampened by her pink tongue when parts of our dinner or dessert landed on her lips. I imagined my name on those lips, being sung to the heavens as I gently acquainted myself with her body. I imagined that soft body beneath mine, her full breasts pressed against my chest heaving, out of breath, as we melded into one another.

_I came with her name on my lips._

As badly as I thought I wanted to fuck her, more than anything I just wanted to be around her. A call would be enough. All I needed was some sign to let me know that what we shared last night wouldn't be a one-time thing. I checked and re-checked my cell phone to no avail. She hadn't called; _she hadn't thought about me._

Maybe it was the note. _If you ever need me_. Why did I write that? Of course, she didn't call because of my idiotic wording. It was entirely too forward of me to think that she would _need_ me. What could I offer her? I knew exactly what she could offer me: companionship; a warm body whose only intention wasn't to sleep with me as fast as possible and be on their way before I had even cleaned myself up. But what could I give her that she already didn't have? Someone as sweet as her could surely find company if ever she was looking for it, I would be just another body to her. _Just another face._

"You barely know her, Sam. Fucking stop. Why would she want anything to do with you?"

It was no use, the harder I was on myself the harder I thought about her and why she didn't seem to think she was a good enough person. From welcoming me into her home and keeping me entertained with hours of conversation I thought that she was more than good, hell she was probably too good for someone who normally spent their evenings talking to themselves or glued to the computer in his office stressing over designs for websites that no one would probably ever visit. What could she have done that was so bad? We've all made our share of mistakes, me especially, why should she think herself such an awful person? What was she capable of that wasn't registering with me?

_"You don't want to know her," she said regretfully. _

_When she began to cry again, I grabbed her to me and held her like something – everything depended on it. I let her cry against me, stroked her back as the waves of tears shook her body. Held her, comforted her, until she stopped. When she calmed, I wiped her face and told her that she was wrong, that I did want to know her. _

_"Why?" she asked, shaking her face from my grip. _

_Reluctantly, I let her go but held her gaze as I spoke. "Because, I just do. I feel like I ended up here for a reason, Mercedes. I could have left your purse in the park. Even if I picked it up, I could have just mailed it to you instead of bringing it all the way here. If I did come here, I could have dropped it at your door and left. I don't have to be here right now, Mercedes, just trying to hold you and tell you that you're worth something - but I am."_

"_How do you know I'm worth something?"_

'_Because you saved me from being alone tonight,' I wanted to say. 'Because I didn't have to spend another evening trapped in my own thoughts.' I settled on, "I just do – I can feel it."_

_She sighed, seemingly accepting my statements. We shared a comfortable moment of silence as she settled against me again. I wrapped myself around her, not wanting to let her out of my grip for a third time and shatter whatever fantasy I was in._

_"Tell me about yourself, Sam," she suggested as she ran her fingers lazily over the buttons on my shirt. _

_First up was my job. Working as a website designer wasn't the most interesting thing about me but it let me work with my best friend, whose job it was to recruit and court clients, and being the charming bastard that he was, it was an easy job for him. I told her Puck and I had met in high school when his family moved next door to mine. How I was considered a loser for being on the swim team and doing impressions when I delivered the morning announcements and he would come to my defense at every turn, showing up to each of my meets and threatening anyone who thought they could say something bad about me and get away with it. Puck helped me at school and I, in turn, helped him at home. His mother was absent most of the time, spending her time in bars chasing after anyone who she thought would be a good replacement for the husband that abandoned her. Puck and I managed to run his house, I did more chores there than I did at home and I even managed to become sort of big brother to Puck's little sister, Nicole, who was glad to have us make dinner, help her with her homework, and make sure she had any clothes and supplies she needed for school. I could still write Mrs. Puckerman's signature perfectly which stemmed from years of practicing signing off Nicole's emergency contact forms and school permission slips. _

_Next was my own family. After my parents and younger brother and sister moved to Tennessee to be nearer to what little Evans' were left, I was generally alone, as I had decided to move farther north after college. I had Puck and after Tina accepted a position designing logos at our Graphic Design firm, I had her too. Phone calls and emails kept me connected to my blood-related family but Puck and Tina quickly proved themselves great substitutes for the brother and sister I often missed. _

_I spoke for some time but fearing that I was boring her, I stopped mid-sentence and looked down at the beautiful woman lying against my chest. She stared up at me when I stopped, a smile graced her lips and she urged me to continue. I did until her yawns gave way to deep, even breathing and I let my own sleepiness take me. _

My shower finished, I gathered my clothes and set off to put them in my hamper when I remembered to empty my pockets. My wallet and some loose change were the only things to come out along with a small yellow note. I uncrumpled it and smoothed it out on top of my dresser. I stared at it, reading it again and wondering why I hadn't left it and now, why I hadn't trashed it.

**_There was a man at your door. I don't know who he was but I hope to never be him. Last night was wonderful. You are wonderful. I want to see the fire in your eyes again. Please call me soon,_**

**_Sam_**

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**Without giving too much away, I'll just say that there will be plenty of Samcedes interaction in the next chapter. Thank you for reading! And remember, I love hearing from you all and reviews help the chapters come faster. Let me know what your theories are and how you're feeling about the story. **


	5. Beginnings

Still don't own Glee, never will.

**Thank you all for reading! I'm glad to hear your guesses and feelings in the reviews/comments so keep those coming as well and I'll try to respond to everyone. I'll keep this short and let you get on with the chapter. Enjoy!**

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_**I won't ask for much because I don't believe I deserve it. I don't believe I deserve you but I've found my way to you nonetheless. Now that I'm here, I don't plan on leaving.**_

Nothing that came across my desk made any sense. I spent the rest of my weekend thinking about Mercedes and most of my week doing the same. Though Puck had taken his status as a single man as an opportunity to drag me out to spend a few nights out on the town, his reconciliation with Sugar left me alone again by Sunday night. By Monday morning, I realized that I hadn't slept. I had lain in bed for my normal eight hours but I hadn't slept. My eyes got heavy, my breathing evened out, but I didn't sleep.

"This girl can't be that special," Puck bemoaned as I checked my cell phone for the umpteenth time. We sat in my office; me trying to focus on the layout of a website for a party planner and him diligently setting up appointments in his planner. "What has got you so hung up about her?"

I shook my head, dismissing his claims. "You'd have to meet her to find out." I couldn't describe exactly what I felt for Mercedes at that point. If I knew the words to properly describe what I felt just being near her for a few hours I'd gladly shout them from the roof of our twenty-story building.

It took a week for her to call. A week for me to pick up the phone, hear her whisper a cautious 'Hello' then hang up as soon as I returned the greeting. It was just enough; just hearing her voice and the fact that she had decided to call at all. I had spent the entire week taking my lunch break at the same exact time, walking over to the park where we met and hoping to run into her again.

_One day I got lucky. I spotted her coat first, then her swiftly moving legs, and I immediately sprinted across the park to catch up with her. I called her name and when she turned around, I saw what I recognized as a brief moment of panic flash across her face before she plastered on a smile and greeted me warmly._

_I wanted to ask how she'd been; what she'd been up to; why she didn't call; when I would get to see her again; where did she go the other night; who was the man at her door.  
_

_None of those questions came out. Instead, I asked, "Would you like to have dinner with me?"_

_She struggled to keep the smile on her face as she politely turned me down. I wanted to beg her, to promise her that she would have a nice evening but my pride wouldn't allow it. As bad as I wanted the company, hers especially, I didn't think it would be worth making a fool of myself if she wasn't interested. She offered a quick goodbye before continuing on her path down the street._

After that encounter, I had given up all hope of hearing from her and resolved to settle for the fantasies I began having about her. When she did call, the sound of my ringing cell phone sounded foreign. I prudently answered the call and heard the pleasant sound of her voice on the other end.

She spoke softly, "Hello?"

I didn't respond. My excitement and my nervousness were at odds and both wanted the privilege to speak up.

"Hello?" she breathed again.

"Hello, Mer-" I didn't get it out before I heard the click. I figured my lack of response was the reason for her ending the call but I was still overjoyed to hear from her. _  
_

_She had thought about me. _

Not only was I on her mind, but she wanted to hear from me. To hear my voice in the same way I wanted to hear hers and just that thought enough to get me through the rest of my day. Her phone number would be the weapon against my loneliness and I intended to use it. I wanted to call her every free moment I had but as I stared down the large stack of client contracts cluttering my desk and dealt with the constant stream of visitors running in and out of my door, I never had a moment to do so.

I called her that evening after I had gotten home. She said that she was glad to hear from me and apologized for hanging up earlier, admitting that shyness got the best of her and forced her to hang up. I dismissed her apology and settled at my kitchen table while I talked to her. I quickly lost track of time and my rumbling stomach reminded me that I hadn't had dinner. Glancing at my phone, I realized it was almost 9 PM and that I had been talking to Mercedes for over three hours.

She told me about herself. About her job at a local community center her parents had founded where she taught piano and led a small choir. About how the untimely passing of both of her parents in a small plane crash that had left her pretty much set for life. They had a monetary fund set up for her with a specific monthly allowance that she could spend how she liked. When she had extra money, it was put towards the community center where she spent most of her free time. She talked about her parents lovingly, sobbed a little as she told me how she missed them. She didn't have any other family except for an older brother in the military that spent most of his time overseas.

_Aside from an errant friend or two, she was alone.  
_

She told me where she went the other night. She didn't go into too much detail, only divulging the fact that she ended up at a club where a run-in with one of her exes caused her to spend the night with a friend. I still couldn't muster up the courage to ask about the man at the door; I didn't want to pry too much and figured when the time was right, I'd ask. I also didn't ask why she had chosen to leave and not wake me. However, she did explain that she had had a long day and felt overwhelmed when she woke up in my arms and didn't feel the need to disturb my seemingly peaceful sleep as she escaped for a few hours to collect her thoughts. I understood, knowing all too well the rush that went along with something new in your life and coping with the strange feelings.

We went on like this for two weeks, diligently calling one another after work and speaking on the phone. The conversations weren't always long but they were always pleasant, and each time I hung up I felt...satisfied. Having her on the other end of the line did something to me. She was who knows where some nights when we talked. At times I could hear the faint sounds of children playing in the background, other times I'd hear music or the distinct sounds of traffic, but the idea that I had her full attention, that she wanted to speak with me, it was one of the best things I'd ever experienced.

_I let myself dream. I thought that maybe, I could be so lucky, and someone like Mercedes could want someone like me._

I thought to push my luck again. I got up the courage to invite her over for dinner. She was already disagreeing before I finished the question. I could feel her shaking her head on the phone, her dark hair probably flying as she did. "I don't know if that's a good idea," she began, "Talking on the phone is one thing, but I just want to take whatever this is slowly. I'm not really someone you should be letting into your life right now. I can't imagine how anyone could have room for me," she admitted somewhat sadly.

I spoke gently, allowing my patience to do the talking. I wanted to spend time with her and I could tell that she wanted the same. "Why don't you let me decide what I have room for? I'm not trying to seduce you or anything, Mercedes. I just want to have dinner with you again. I want to see your face again," I confessed.

A brief silence took the air before she responded, "I want to see yours too, I just-"

"Say yes," I urged, hopeful that she'd comply

A sigh came through the line as she gave in, "I can be there in an hour."

An hour went by faster than I anticipated it would. After a shower and changing into one of my nicer pairs of jeans, I buzzed around my kitchen trying to figure out what I should serve for dinner. I panicked at the realization that I hadn't thought my plan out too well and that I didn't have much in the way of ingredients to put together a decent meal. I gave up trying after deciding that there was absolutely nothing I could put together with potato chips and peanut butter. I settled on pizza. It was the best I could do under such short notice and I just had to pray that Mercedes would understand my predicament.

I heard a light knock on the door as I fixed my mussed blond hair in the bathroom mirror. I rushed to the door, not bothering with the peephole, I swung it wide open and greeted Mercedes with a foolish grin. She looked lovely in a short black cocktail dress, diamond earrings and loosely curled hair.

Her smile matched my own and my stomach flipped at the idea that she seemed just as eager as I was. "Hi, Sam," she uttered shyly.

I moved aside to let her in, taking the coat she carried in her hands; I glanced briefly again at her outfit, trying not to stare too much. It was hard because it probably should have been illegal the way the fabric of her dress dipped over her form and clung to her body. "You didn't have to get all dressed up on my account," I joked.

She laughed nervously, "I didn't actually. I just have a-uh-um-a-previous engagement that I have to attend tonight."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't realize. I-I-I didn't mean to mess up any of your plans. We could have done this some other time - I just ordered pizza," I began rambling.

"No, no. You didn't mess anything up," she said hurriedly. Her tone softened as she continued, "I love pizza. Besides, I really wanted to see you."

I put a hand to my chest, as I was sure my heart was going to jump out at her words. Part of me didn't want to believe them; I wasn't entirely ready to acknowledge the fact that she might have liked me as much as I liked her. "Then why was it so hard for me to get you to have dinner with me?" I questioned, ushering her toward the kitchen.

"I didn't want you to feel like you _had _to spend time with me. I'm kind of a mess, Sam, and I don't want to burden you with anything."

I smiled as I handed her a can of soda from the fridge. "Trust me, I'm sure it's nothing I can't handle."

We sat down at the table and she fiddled with the tab on her soda, focusing on it as she plucked it against the can, "You're really sweet, which is why I was so afraid to call you. I don't really know how to treat sweet people. I hate to be so cryptic; I just have a lot going on but despite all of that I haven't been able to stop thinking about you."

A knock on the door stopped my response. I muttered that I'd be back and left the kitchen to open the door. A teenager stood there impatiently tapping his foot and holding my pizza. I paid for it and had to take a moment to breathe after I closed the door behind him.

_She couldn't stop thinking about me._

The words really hit me and as I walked back to the kitchen, I had to take another deep breath before sitting back down at the table. I served each of us a slice of pizza and began to eat, stalling as I tried to figure out what to say to her. I couldn't tell her that she'd been on my mind constantly for the past couple of weeks. I couldn't tell her about the dreams I had about her, or the fantasies that now plagued my waking life. I couldn't tell her about the sinking feeling in my chest if I missed one of her calls that turned to fluttering when I'd listen to the sweet voicemails she'd leave.

Finishing off my first slice and reaching for another, I finally had an idea. "How about we make a deal?" I began. She looked up at me, a smile tugged at her lips as she waited for me to continue, "I promise to let you tell me about yourself on your own terms if you promise not to push me away."

The smile took over. My heart melted as she reached across the table to cup my clammy hand in hers. "I promise that I'll try," she pledged.

I squeezed her fingers and matched her smile. "That's good enough."

We continued to eat, each of us doing so with one hand as we refused to let go of our clasped hand. Her fingers intertwined with mine and I stroked her thumb with my own as we ate and talked periodically. Her cell phone ringing interrupted our bliss. She slowly let go of my hand and pulled the device from her purse, rolled her eyes at the display and excused herself to answer it. I could hear hushed parts of her conversation but tried my best not to eavesdrop. Whoever was on the other end of the line had her somewhat annoyed and she seemed slightly on edge when she came back to the table. She didn't sit down. Instead, she began cleaning up her plate.

"I'm really sorry but I have to go," she apologized making her way to the trashcan. I stood up and cleaned up my own mess.

"Right, your previous engagement-" I uttered, trying to stave off the empty feeling that would eventfully overtake my body when she was gone from me.

"Yeah, I really am sorry. I hate to eat and run."

I brushed off the apology, glad that I had gotten to spend any time with her at all. "Don't worry about it; we can finish up some other time."

I walked her to the door and helped her into her coat. A loud beep from her phone caused her to groan as she replied to the message she received. I waited for her to finish then offered to walk her to her car.

"No, don't bother. I think I can make it down all right. Thank you for tonight."

"You're welcome. If you ever want to do this again you can just call."

"I will." She took a step closer to me, I could smell her perfume, wafting up to my nostrils and intoxicating me instantly. She tilted her head back, her hair falling off her shoulders as she did, and pulled me to her by the front of my shirt. Our lips met in a short kiss before she whispered good night against my mouth and turned to leave.

Some statement came out of my mouth; I'm not sure what it was, not even sure if there were actual words. I stood at the door for a moment, babbling and licking my lips as I waved goodbye. As she reached the stairs, her phone rang again. She stopped to dig it from her purse and answered it as she stood at the top of the landing.

Gone was the sweet, hushed tone she spoke with me in. Her voice was annoyed and somewhat shrewd as she spoke, "I said I'll be there, stop calling me." She hung up the device and shoved it in her pocket as she began to take the stairs.

Before I could stop myself, I had grabbed my keys, found my shoes, slipped on my coat, and bolted from my apartment. When I reached the street, I could see Mercedes hopping into a red sports car. I ducked behind a row of bushes and crept to my own vehicle. Once inside, I waited for her to pull off before starting my car and coming behind her. I kept my distance as we drove, unaware of where I was headed but keeping an eye out for where we may end up.

_She couldn't be going that far._

I didn't know what I was doing. Didn't know what exactly had compelled me to walk out of the door after her. All I knew was that it probably had a large part to do with whoever was on the other end of that phone and making Mercedes uncomfortable. I didn't like her feeling that way, didn't like her possibly heading in the direction of anyone who was going to try and hurt her. Maybe I could stop it. Maybe I could preempt whatever was going to happen and make everything better. Maybe I could save her.

I pulled up to a bar with a flashing gold sign, _**McKinley's**_ it said. I parked near the back of the lot where I had a perfect view of Mercedes exiting her car. She walked to the door and was met by a large dark-haired man who pulled her to him in a spirited hug. They exchanged a few words before he reached into his coat pocket and came back out with what appeared to be a small stack of bills. She eyed the money uneasily and exchanged a few words with the man, before taking an expressive, dramatic huff and stuffing the money into her purse. The man wrapped an arm around her and led her to the front doors.

I sat in my car for a couple of minutes trying my best to rationalize what I had just seen. Mercedes couldn't be _that_ type of woman, could she? But what if she was? Did that change the way I felt? Did that mean that I shouldn't see her anymore? Should I tell her that I know? Would knowing this stop the smile that appeared as soon she entered my thoughts? Would it stop my palms from sweating and my from throat drying when I came near her? Would it stop the fact that my entire body felt hot after she kissed me and if I had only one pleasure left in life I would want it to be her lips pressed against my own again?

I shook away the questions and decided to see for myself. I had my ID checked by the burly, mustached bouncer at the door and walked in. The place was dim, but the lighting felt appropriate in the expansive room. I stood in the doorway taking in the scene; tables and booths, filled with people covered the room. The walls were heavily decorated with various posters and nostalgic knick-knacks. There was a crowd around the long bar where three bartenders tended to the needs of the patrons. Waitresses darted around the room, dodging customers as they carried drinks and food to waiting tables. The place was alive, everyone moved to their own tune, seemingly aligned with the soft jazz music pumping through speakers placed strategically around the area.

I felt a body bump into mine and someone shove past me without apology. I turned to look at the offender and quickly realized it was the wet man who had shown up at Mercedes' apartment. I couldn't forget his face. He still wore the same sad expression he had weeks ago but tonight it was paired determination. He didn't even notice me as he bum rushed his way through the crowd and toward a door near the back placed next to a stage where a large black piano and solitary microphone stood.

He bumped into a waitress who tried to stop him from going through the door. The tray she was carrying, filled with empty plates of food, was knocked out of her hands and he continued to walk past her as she bent to pick everything up. I moved to follow him and as I got nearer to the waitress, I recognized her as Puck's girlfriend, Sugar. I bent to help her pick up the items from the tilted tray and she smiled graciously.

"What are you doing here, Sam?" She squeaked.

"I just stopped in. I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, I've been here forever. The owner's a real sweetie. Though some people are real _**jackasses**_," she grumbled gesturing toward the door the man disappeared behind.

"Who is that guy?" I asked as we stood back up.

She shrugged, lifting her tray back into the air. "I'm not even sure. He comes here all the time always asking for Mercedes."

I tried to keep my curiosity at bay, but I still thought it wise to use Sugar as a resource if she could be one. "You know Mercedes?" I asked as nonchalantly as I could.

An eager smile found its way to her face as she spoke, "Of course! _Everyone_ here does; that's our Momma Merce! I don't really know who that guy is though. He used to come in and watch her sing. But she hasn't been here in a while so he just sits here all night, waiting for her, constantly asking if she's coming around. How do you know Mercedes?"

I didn't have time to respond to Sugar's question or thank her for the information she helpfully provided. The sound of shouting rang from behind the door and I could hear Mercedes' raised voice distinctively. In a flash, I was through the door with Sugar on my tail and on my way to the dressing room where I believed the screaming match to be coming from.

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**What does Sam following Mercedes mean for their relationship? What is going on with Mike? What was up with the money outside of McKinley's? More will be revealed in the next chapter. In the meantime, I want to know what's going through your lovely little heads. See you soon! Thanks for reading!**


	6. Confrontations

Don't own Glee.

**Thank you all for reading, reviewing, alerting, favoriting, etc. You guys are keeping me on my toes with the questions and the guesses. Please keep those coming as we go along. In this chapter we'll get another point of view and I'm going to shut up now so you can read.**

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_**It would take my lifetime and several after to compensate you for all that you've done. I promise that I'll spend my life working toward that goal though I already know there simply isn't enough time.**_

I kept watching the door for her. I lost track of how many times I called her but I kept dialing and redialing as she began to only answer a few of my calls. It was obvious she was losing patience with me but I needed her there for me tonight. I had made a deal with Artie Abrams. He agreed to take a short meeting with me to discuss a new business opportunity in connection to the bar I co-owned, **Hubray**. I wanted his advice and an audience with the man who owned and operated the busiest and most well-known bar in town. In return, he wanted a performance from a singer who happened to be one of my best and oldest friends. Mercedes wasn't eager to return to the bar but after pulling out the most shameful of puppy dog faces I could muster, she agreed.

I waited for her, checking my watch again. Mercedes was rarely late for anything but tonight she was close to making an exception to the rule. I decided to move my waiting out to the parking lot where I had to send a quick thanks up to God as I saw her getting out of her car and walking toward me. I knew I was on thin ice judging by the tone she took with me in our last call and the scowl that now covered her face, but I was glad to see her nonetheless.

"Mercy!" I yelled, grabbing her into my arms. She returned the hug but was quick to admonish my worried behavior.

"Oh, so you took a break from calling me to get a little fresh air? Could you be more jumpy Finnie?"

"I'm sorry but you know how long I've been trying to get a meeting with Artie. The only way he would agree is if I brought you along."

She stared at the ground, wringing her hands as she spoke. "I know, Finn. I just haven't been in the mood for this place."

"I know honey and I really appreciate what you're doing for me. I said I would make this worth your while and I still intend to." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the stack of bills I'd promised I'd give to Mercedes. "It's only a couple of hundred, if you want more just say the word." I held the money out to her and she just stared at it, making no move to take it from me.

"I thought you were just going to buy me dinner or something. I can't take that from you Finn," she said with a shake of her head.

"You have to. I know Artie used to pay you whenever you sang here. I didn't want you to come all the way down here and perform for nothing. You're worth the money, Mercy and a hell of a lot more too."

"No, I'm not taking it."

"Mercedes," I pushed the money at her again. "You can put it towards the Jones Center. Just take it."

She huffed dramatically before snatching the money and shoving it into her purse. "Don't be too surprised if you find it in your Christmas card."

I wrapped an arm around her and led her toward the front door. "I can't even tell you how much I love you, Mercy."

"Yeah, yeah," she said, elbowing me in my side. "But for the record, you call my phone fifteen times in a row again and I'm taking your tall ass to the carpet."

"Got it." We stopped to greet the bouncer, Shane, at the door before walking inside and heading straight to the back, past the stage where Mercy would be performing shortly and toward a dressing room where Artie and his favorite waitress Sugar were waiting for the two of us. Artie sat at the small table, wiping his mouth as Sugar cleaned up several plates of food. We all exchanged friendly 'Hello's' before Mercedes settled herself at the vanity on the opposite wall and began to check her already made up face.

"Do you need anything before you start, Merce?" Sugar asked, moving to leave.

"Nope, honey, I'm good. Just have my whiskey sour ready when I finish?"

"Sure thing." With a sweet smile, she was on her way, balancing the tray high above her head.

"You ready for our meeting Mr. Hudson?" Artie asked, wheeling over to me. I had to admire his transformation. One minute, he was flirting casually with Sugar and Mercedes and the next he was staring me down. I didn't cower under his gaze and instead simply told him to lead the way to his office.

He moved over to Mercedes and took her hand in his. He kissed the back of it and gave her a wholesome smile. "I'll be playing for you tonight, Merce. If there is absolutely anything you need I want you to ask me personally."

She put her hand over his and patted it gently. "I'll be fine, Artie. I just need to warm up and I'll be all ready for ya."

"I can't wait. Now if you'll excuse me, I've promised Mr. Hudson a quick meeting. We'll be back soon."

"Take your time," she gave me a quick wink before waving us out the door. I followed Artie to his office where he instructed me to sit down in one of the red leather chairs opposite his large, polished desk. He settled behind it, taking out a folder and pen and pad from the drawers and folding his hands on top of everything. I looked around nervously at the lavish decor. There were signed photographs everywhere. Pictures of Artie with any celebrity you could imagine. The man had certainly made a name for himself and I was lucky to be in his presence.

"So, Mr. Hudson-"

"Finn, please call me Finn," I interjected, in my hopes to break some of the uneasiness in the room.

"If it's all the same to you, I prefer Mr. Hudson. You were Finn when you were one of my most loyal customers and you brought Mercedes with you to sing on a weekly basis. Now, since you've opened that bar with, with-" he snapped his fingers, waiting for me to supply my partner's name.

"Quinn, Quinn Fabray-Chang. I'm sorry she couldn't be here tonight," I apologized, hoping my partner's absence wouldn't derail out meeting. Quinn insisted on being at Hubray as often as possible and tonight was no exception. Since meeting in business school, Quinn and I had managed to stay in contact with one another throughout the years. We weren't the best of friends, but ever since she jumped at my idea of opening a nightclub, we'd been partners.

"Right. Since you two opened that bar you've been taking away some of my business. So please excuse me if I'm not exactly eager to be so chummy with you, Mr. Hudson."

"If you don't mind me asking, if you didn't want to be friendly with me, why did you agree to meet with me?"

"Several reasons actually. Number one, business doubles whenever Miss Jones is in the building. The woman is amazing and I'd do just about anything to get her back on that stage. Number two, I like to keep my enemies close. Number three, you said you had a proposition for me and I'd be a fool if I didn't meet with one of the up-and-comers in town. So what do you have to offer me?"

"Well, Quinn and I discussed opening another business, a restaurant; something to expand on the Hubray brand. But we've only been in business for two years and we don't exactly have the same "star power" as you do."

He wrote diligently on the notepad as I spoke, he looked up when I stopped, "and? Where do I come in?"

A deep breath calmed my nerves as I prepared myself for the possible rejection of my offer. "Well, we were hoping that maybe you'd be willing to help us with the restaurant, partner with us."

"So I'd own a third of the restaurant?" I nodded. He tapped the pen against the pad, rereading the notes he wrote as he mulled over my offer. "I'll tell you what, split things thirty, thirty, forty and I'll consider it. If I'm not majority owner I can't participate."

"I'll have to talk it over with Quinn, but I think we could work something out."

"I'll also need your business model before I agree to anything."

"Right, we're still in the really early stages of planning but I can have something for you soon."

"Take your time, I'm not in any hurry to part with my cash, but seeing how successful Hubray has been, I might be willing to take a chance." He extended his hand across the desk and I stood to shake it eagerly.

"I promise you won't regret it. We're going to make a great team."

"Don't make promises you-" he was cut off as both of our ears picked up the sound of yelling. He quickly moved from behind his desk, following me out of the door. My heart raced as I recognized Mercedes' voice. We made it to her dressing room where the door was already opened. A tall blond man stood clutching her body to his as Mike knelt down on the floor in front of them begging.

_What was he doing here? _

"Please," he sobbed, "you can't do this to me Mercedes, I need you. I'll give up everything I fucking have in this world if you just tell me that you still love me."

"She doesn't want you," the blond man shouted, moving Mercedes closer to him. "We're happy together, just leave us alone." He pulled Mercedes into a deep kiss, her eyes bulging wide the entire time.

Seeing the display of affection, Mike hopped up from the ground and lunged toward the blond. Mercedes and Sugar let out twin shrieks as the two men wrestled on the floor. Seemingly unfrozen by the screams, Artie and I sprang into action. He pulled out his cell phone and began calling for security as I tried to pry the two men apart, dodging the punches each of them threw. I managed to separate them as Shane came running through the door to help me out. He grabbed Mike into a chokehold as Mercedes wrapped a calming arm around the other man's waist.

"Sam," she warned as he settled against her small frame. She whispered something else I couldn't hear and he seemed to relax in her hold.

"Sugar, why don't you go outside and make sure nobody heard any of this," Artie suggested. "Tell the bartenders to give out a couple of freebies to make sure the crowd is still calm."

I didn't have time to hear any more of his orders as I helped Shane remove Mike from the room. I couldn't figure out what he was doing there. As far as I knew, he and Mercedes had stopped seeing each other after she found out he was married.

_I was positive of that. _

Normally, I stayed out of the affairs of others. However, when Quinn introduced me to her husband that had been bankrolling her half of the nightclub, I had to step in. I wouldn't have gotten involved, it wasn't exactly my place, but I couldn't let him hurt Mercedes. I corned him and asked him if Mercedes knew he was married. When he told me no, I threatened him, told him that if he didn't tell her then I would do it and his wife would probably find out in the process. It would more than likely mean an end to their marriage, which would also mean an end to my business but I was willing to take that chance to protect my best friend. I didn't exactly want to see Quinn hurt either but the woman wasn't without her secrets. I just wanted Mercedes out of the situation and away from the troubled couple. It was my way of trying to repay her for all that she'd done for me in life.

There was no monetary amount that could make up for the vivacious little girl who stuck up for the piss poor little boy. No amount of money could reimburse her for the shared lunches, hand-me-down clothes, and sleepovers she insisted on having when she knew my mother wouldn't make it home at night. She saved me. Literally a couple of times when she threated to tell her superintendent father about any of the kids who picked on me but more than anything, she saved me from feeling sorry for myself, from spending my youth wallowing in my situation. Mercedes made me happy, she made me forget about all of the things I didn't have, and helped me to appreciate the family I found in the Jones'. She never thought less of me for being poor, or not having a relationship with my constantly working mother, she accepted me for all that I was and never made me feel bad because of it.

_Mercedes never judged. _

I never asked about the exact nature of or any details about Mike and Mercedes' relationship. All I knew is that they were _involved. _I knew that the man seemed to make her happy and as long as he treated her well, I had no objections. I had to object when he was introduced to me as Quinn's husband. I played dumb like the two of us never met before, as if I didn't remember that night at McKinley's when he and Mercedes did things in the bathroom I could never bring myself to ask about. But as soon as we got a moment alone, I went in for the kill. He wouldn't hurt her; I wanted to make sure of it.

Shane and I walked outside where he finally released Mike. He looked as if he was still going to put up a fight but when Shane jumped at him, waiting for a challenge, he sunk back and collapsed on the curb.

"Can you wait here while I call him a cab? He can't drive home like this."

"No problem," I agreed, moving closer to Mike. I remained standing, just in case he got the bright idea to run back in.

"Why did you come here? How did you even know she would be here." I asked. I couldn't help but feel somewhat sorry for the bruised and bleeding man. I owed him so much; my business wouldn't have gotten off the ground without him but seeing as he was the same scumbag who had my best friend hating herself for the past year, I couldn't offer him much sympathy.

He stared at the sidewalk before mumbling an answer. "Quinn told me you were coming to meet with Artie and I hoped she'd be here too." He took a shaky breath before continuing, "I need her, Finn. I know you know what it's like, I see the way you are with Tina and it's the same with me and Cedes - I'm not complete without her."

"That's bullshit," I uttered bluntly. "That doesn't explain why you decided to show up here tonight. Mercedes told me she was done with you a long time ago." I still didn't know why Mike was there but I was angry with him for showing his face. I could be cordial with the man in any other area, at any other time when he was by Quinn's side and pretending to be a devoted husband. But now, as he sat with his face buried in his knees, crumpled over from a pain I didn't understand, I wanted nothing more than kick him when he was already down. As far as I was concerned, he deserved it.

_He deserved everything bad that happened to him. _

"She said she couldn't be with me but I didn't believe her. About a month ago, she said she'd meet me, at our usual place but she never showed up. I waited all night. The next morning, I went to her apartment and that hotheaded shithead in there answered her door. I've been trying to see her ever since. She needs to understand, Finn. I love her."

"And how does Quinn feel about that?" The more he used the word _love_ the angrier I became. Who was he to talk about love? He pledged himself to one woman but gave his heart to another. That wasn't love.

He scoffed, "Quinn? You mean the woman who won't even look me in the eye when we fuck? Who is just with me because of all the pretty little things I can buy her? I know that she's your partner, so please don't be too offended when I say that I don't give a fuck about how Quinn feels." His voice croaked as he continued, the tears threatening his eyes finally falling, "I just need Mercedes. Nothing else, nobody else, just her."

"Yeah, and I'm sure the partners at your little firm will be really happy to hear about the public scandal that's sure to ensue when people hear that you're fighting in bars and divorcing your wife for your mistress who doesn't even want you. You let me know how that plan goes." He seemed to sober at my words but didn't offer a reply. Maybe I had gotten through to him. If I ever saw Mike again, it would be too soon and I was relieved when Shane came back out just as a cab pulled up and helped Mike into the back before giving some cash to the driver and sending the cab on its way.

I stood outside for a moment, collecting myself as I thought about what Mike had said. He was here because he thought Mercedes still wanted him, which meant that at some point she was still seeing him. I didn't think any more as I stormed back into the club and straight to the dressing room. I found a much calmer scene as Sam and Mercedes spoke in hushed voices to one another. I didn't care what they were talking about; I interrupted their conversation and said my peace.

"How could you?" I asked Mercedes, my voice louder than I intended. "You said you were done with him. You _lied_ to me, Mercedes. Friends don't do that to one another."

She winced at my harsh tone as an apology quickly left her lips. "I'm sorry Finn. I'm not seeing him any more, not at all. I didn't know he would come here."

"I tried to protect you, I put myself and my business on the line for you to make sure you were okay. How is anyone supposed to help you if you keep sabotaging yourself at every fucking turn?" I was shouting, but I didn't care. She had to know how hurt I was, how much I risked for her.

"I said I was sorry. I know that doesn't make it better but I have nothing else to offer," she caught a sudden interest in the floor as she spoke again her voice barely above a whisper. "I was in love with him. I went back because of that. It was stupid but I couldn't stop myself and I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be upset. I know how much you risked for me but I-I _needed _him." She cleared her throat weakly and tried to speak with a firmer tone, "But I'm done now. Forever."

"So you're done with him, really done?" She nodded sheepishly. "Well I don't know if I can believe that because you've already lied to me. So what, now you're done with Mike and you're just going to move onto this guy," I said gesturing toward Sam who'd been watching our conversation with wide eyes. "Hopping from one dick to another isn't a cure for loneliness." I regretted the last part as soon as it left my mouth. I knew Mercedes had been lonely. She had been in a deep funk ever since her parents died. That was to be expected, but the funk seemed to lift after she met Mike. Before that, I tried at every chance to keep her company and keep her happy. I was the one who suggested she begin working at the Jones Center and even worked there with her for some time, but after I met my girlfriend, Tina, my hours there sort of petered out.

"It's not like that. Sam was just-"

"I don't care. You make your own decisions Mercedes; just don't expect me to be there to bail you out next time."

I threw my hands up and walked out, not caring that Mercedes was asking me not to leave. I made it into my car where I fumbled with the keys and when they dropped to the floor, I lost it. I punched the steering wheel, causing the horn to blare and jolt the tears from my body. I didn't have many people in my life that I could trust but I always counted Mercedes as one of them. I couldn't believe that she would lie to me when I tried to protect her. She could have told me that she was seeing Mike, told me that she was in love with him.

_Maybe I would have understood_.

At the very least, I wouldn't be in my car sniveling about the loss of my best friend.

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**We're back to Sam in the next two chapters and after that we'll finally get to hear from Mercedes. How do you all feel about the way things went down? Was Mike wrong for coming to McKinley's? Was Sam wrong for intervening? Should Mercedes have been honest with Finn? So many questions and I hope you all have more along with some guesses for what's coming up. Let me know what you're thinking in the reviews! Thanks for reading!**


	7. Conferences

_**Don't own Glee.  
**_**_  
_Please excuse any mistakes and enjoy the chapter. Let me know what you think in the reviews! I think you all know how much I love talking with you all.**

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_**We aren't so different, he and me. I don't yet feel for you the feelings that won't stop tormenting him but I am excited, frightened, and powerless to stop myself from hurtling in the same direction.  
**_

Deep, focused breaths were the only thing keeping me from grabbing Mercedes and dragging her out of the dressing room and as far away as I could get her from the groveling human heap of crazy kneeling before her.

"Who the hell are you and why do I keep seeing your face?" He growled at me as I entered the room and pulled Mercedes to my side. When Sugar and I walked in, we took a moment to assess the situation and to listen to his pleas for Mercedes to forgive him. Sugar didn't move from the door but it had taken me less than a second to find a place next to Mercedes' side.

"It doesn't matter who I am. All you need to know is that you should stay away from Mercedes," I said in what I hoped to be a somewhat threatening voice.

He ignored me and moved closer to Mercedes to grip her hands in his. She jerked away immediately, causing him to fall into her lap. Not letting the action deter him, he clutched his arms around her, fighting harder when she tried to wiggle away.

"Why can't you see Mercedes? I need you. Do you remember that ring I gave you? I made you a promise and I intend to keep it." He was crying against her now, his face buried into the front of her dress.

She pushed his head away with both hands and wagged a finger at him, "I don't want anything from you Mike. No more of your promises."

"But you said-just last month you said-"

"It doesn't matter what I said. I didn't mean it. You need to leave. **Now**."

"Please," he sobbed, "you can't do this to me Mercedes, I need you."

"She doesn't want you," I yelled before Mercedes could respond. I had gotten the message in the five minutes I spent observing their interaction. Mercedes recoiled from the man time and time again as he tried to reach for her. Now that he finally had her in his grip, she clawed at his arms, trying to remove herself from his hold. I didn't know why I felt the need to continue putting my nose where it didn't belong but I wanted him gone, away from Mercedes. "We're happy together, just leave us alone." A bolt of courage shot up my spine and caused me to pull Mercedes into my arms. I stared at her for a moment, her face contorted into a confused expression, but she didn't pull out of my hold and didn't push me away as I pressed my lips to hers. Our mouths fit together naturally; her plump lips the perfect cushion for my own pouty set. I swiped my tongue along her bottom one, nibbling it slightly and she parted her mouth just enough for me to push my tongue past the former barrier. I moaned at my first taste of her; she was sweet as I imagined she would be, and as I breathed into her, capturing the faint whimpers she pushed into my mouth, I allowed myself to momentarily become lost in the shocked eyes that darkened and blinked repeatedly as I pulled away.

_I prayed this wouldn't be my only taste of her._

I didn't have time to react properly, just enough to let Mercedes go and push her away slightly as Mike leapt up from the ground and tackled me. He was trying to choke me but a few concentrated punches toward his upper body kept him from having the controlling the altercation. We scuffled for a few charged minutes, not even noticing that more people had entered the room until the tall man from outside was pulling at Mike and trying to pry the two of us apart. I stopped abruptly, avoiding another punch as the bouncer rushed in to help break us up, grabbing a still swinging Mike into a chokehold. The dark haired man moved toward me, to grab me as well, but Mercedes wrapped an arm around me, pulling me to her soft body protectively. I relaxed in her touch, heeding the words she whispered into my ear.

"I don't know what the hell is wrong with you but you need to stop."

"Do you want him here, Merce?" A man with thick glasses in a wheelchair asked after he'd finished ordering Sugar from the room. He eyed me menacingly, waiting for me to make a wrong move. I didn't say anything and allowed Mercedes to speak.

"He's fine," she said sternly. "I'm really sorry about all of that, Artie. I'll do an extra song for you tonight."

"Don't worry about it sweets. Just let me know if the blond one here gets out of hand again. I'll happily handle his ass myself." He cracked his knuckles before wheeling out of the room and back down the hallway.

The room was silent for a beat. Mercedes didn't let me go right away, opting to sigh heavily into my back. I ran my hands lightly over the arm that was still around me, and felt the goose bumps that seemed to transfer from her body to mine as I felt her cheek brush my back.

"Mercedes, we need to talk," I didn't have any statements beyond that one. I hoped that she would take the initiative to speak up and fill me in on the messy situation that I was now somewhere in the middle of.

She let me go and I turned around to face her doe eyes that were thoughtfully trained on me. I expected anger, frustration, disbelief, even. What I didn't expect was the voice of a woman who was obviously tried; I didn't expect her tone to be so even, so sober. "What do we need to talk about, Sam? You followed me here, without any sort of prompting, then you kiss me and to top it all off, you get yourself into a fight. I really don't think I need to know why any of those things happened."

My voice was more desperate, I didn't have a good explanation for why I was there but I needed her to understand what I couldn't quite explain. "You don't understand, Mercedes. I thought something was going on when you kept getting those phone calls and then the money outside I thought you were a...I came here because I-"

She cut in before I could stammer out the words I didn't really want to say. "You thought I was what?" She put her palms up, stopping me before I could answer. "You know what, don't even answer that. I guess this is my own fault." She moved away from me, backing up until she came into contact with the swivel chair in front of a large, lighted vanity. Sitting down, she stared at the floor as she continued, "You just made me a promise, Sam. You said that you would let me go at my own pace and then you show up here. What am I supposed to believe?" Her voice so soft I could barely make out the words she uttered, "The last thing I need in my life is someone else to lie to me."

"That's not my intention. I'm sorry; I shouldn't have come here."

"You're right about that."

"And I shouldn't have kissed you. I thought that he would leave when I did. I was only trying to help."

Her eyes met mine in a sharp stare, "I don't know what you were trying to make better. I'm fine, Sam. I don't need anyone to save me. I don't need anyone to protect me. I don't need anyone to take care of me. I'm not interested in you for what you can do for me." She swung around in her chair to face the mirror and began fiddling with the various containers of makeup. She picked up a tube of red lipstick and began to apply it with a shaky hand. I watched her for what felt like several minutes, her breaths heavy as she stroked the color onto her mouth. I licked my own lips that were still tainted with the taste of her minty mouth. I moved closer to her, needing to say the words that were begging to be uttered.

"But you are still interested?" I asked quietly, unsurely.

She sat down the black tube and regarded me in the mirror. "I like you Sam but I can't lay everything on the table right now and if you're not willing to accept that then we can't do whatever it is we're doing." I nodded, not quite ready to respond. "What are we doing?" She asked, her attention fully mine.

_The confidence was back. _

She turned around to face me and waited as I thought about my answer. I couldn't help what I was feeling for the woman, couldn't help the fact that I had no intention of staying away from her. I wanted her and judging by the fact that she hadn't already kicked me out of the room or had any of the men who were larger than me escort me forcefully back to my car, I hoped that maybe even just a small part of her wanted me too. "We were getting to know one another," she nodded slightly, her agreement gave me the urge to continue, "and if I was correct, we were starting to like each other. Last I heard, you weren't able to stop thinking about me." She smiled at the tail end of my statement and I couldn't help the smirk that crept across my own face.

"You're not wrong." I cupped her cheek, dangerously close to pressing my lips against hers in another hot kiss. I thought better of it and instead opted to stroke her soft skin reassuringly with my thumb.

I jerked from her when we heard the sound of heavy footsteps coming in our direction. She leapt up from her seat and straightened her dress. Figuring that these may be the last words I said to her for the night - considering the strong possibly that whoever was coming our way was possibly going to be carting me out unceremoniously - I tried to push them out quickly and quietly. "I really am sorry. I just want to see you happy. Do you know how beautiful you are when you smile?"

"You are just too-" I saw the slightest hint of a smile coming to her face before her lips quickly quirked into a deep frown when we heard the booming voice enter and envelope the room.

"How could you?" came the loud, expressive question from the man that appeared in the doorway. "You said you were done with him. You lied to me, Mercedes. Friends don't do that to one another."

Mercedes winced, inching herself closer to me and cowering at the words.

"I tried to protect you, I put myself and my business on the line for you to make sure you were okay. How is anyone supposed to help you if you keep sabotaging yourself at every fucking turn?" He was shouting now, seemingly unconcerned with anyone else hearing the argument, and my fists were clenching, anxious to shut him up. The asshole was yelling about friendship but it seemed really unfriendly of him to be tearing down Mercedes in the obviously damaged state she was already in and even more so to be doing it front of a stranger.

"I said I was sorry. I know that doesn't make it better but I have nothing else to offer." She stared down at the floor, speaking softly like a scolded child, "I was in love with him. I went back because of that. It was stupid but I couldn't stop myself and I didn't tell you because I knew you'd be upset. I know how much you risked for me but I-I needed him." She cleared her throat weakly and tried to speak with a firmer tone, "But I'm done now. Forever."

"So you're done with him, really done?" She nodded, obviously tired and defeated from the evening's events. "Well I don't know if I can believe that because you've already lied to me. So what, now you're done with Mike and you're just going to move onto this guy." He gestured toward me and before I could come to my own defense he continued, "Hopping from one dick to another isn't a cure for loneliness." I reeled back at the statement, his eyes fluttered anxiously and I could tell that even he was surprised that those words left his mouth. I wanted to punch him right in the center of his inconsiderate face but the little voice that had been nagging me ever since I left my apartment that night was finally loud enough for me to hear.

_It's not your place, Sam._

"It's not like that. Sam was just-"

"I don't care. You make your own decisions, Mercedes; just don't expect me to be there to bail you out next time." He left the room with a dramatic flourish of his arms and it wasn't long before his footsteps had faded, leaving Mercedes and I in silence once more.

"Is it fucked up that I can't even cry?" She turned to me as if she expected me to answer the question. She pressed a hand to her face and huffed into it.

"You didn't deserve that." I pulled her hand away from her face and wrapped it in my own, squeezing it softly.

A dry laugh crept out of her as a seemingly misplaced grin formed on her lips. "What do you want from me Sam?"

I dropped her hand, feeling the shift in the room. "What do you mean?"

"What do you want from me? What is it that you think that I can give you? Do you just want to fuck me, do you think I can put in a good word for you somewhere, or do you just need someone to cook for you? I'm not trying to judge you, I just want you to be up front with me so I don't get a shitty surprise from you in two months."

"First, you sound pretty judgmental already. Second, I don't want anything from you. I'm not using you for anything. You're a great cook and yeah, maybe I would like to have sex with you but-but-" I ran a frustrated hand through my hair, not caring about the possible weight of my admissions. "Why is it so hard for you to believe that I just want to spend time with you that I might just really like being around you?"

"Because no one is that simple, Sam. Just be honest with me. Tell me what you want."

_Fuck it._

"Honestly, maybe I just want someone to talk to at night. Someone who isn't so wrapped up in themself and makes me feel like I should be honored to spend time with them or pities me for not having anyone. I want somebody to be there for me and not because I bought them a couple of drinks but because they genuinely enjoy my company. I want someone who makes me feel good and even if it's just for two fucking minutes, someone who makes me believe that there is someone out there for me." She didn't look way the whole time I spoke, she listened, hanging onto every word and I hope she not only absorbed my statements, but that they resonated somewhere within her.

A smile was her first response, along with a few somber words. "I just really need some time to think about all of this. I'll call you."

"And if you don't. Do I just turn into Mike and stalk you until you agree to talk to me? What did you say to him last month? Why did he come here?"

Someone knocked lightly on the open door. We both turned to face Sugar who offered an apologetic smile before speaking, "Merce, are you ready to go on? Artie wants to know if you need more time."

"No, honey, I'm good. I'll be right out."

"I'll get going," I said, moving to drag myself out of the room.

"I'll call you," Mercedes offered to my retreating back.

"Please do."

"Sam?"

I didn't turn around. I wanted to, but if I did it would be impossible for me not to wrap her in my arms and do every physical thing I could to make everything that happened tonight disappear. Anything to take us back to that place where she was kissing me softly on the lips and mumbling a sweet goodbye. "Yeah?"

"You won't turn into him. I won't let you."

I nodded again and whispered a quiet goodbye before navigating my way down the hall and back into the bustling club. I didn't leave right away. Instead, I found a spot toward the back and watched as a red spotlight enveloped the stage. Artie rolled onto the stage and situated himself behind the piano. The crowd hushed of their own volition as he pulled the microphone in front of him to his mouth and began to speak.

"Good evening lovely ladies and dapper dudes. I would like to thank you all for making your way to McKinley's tonight. You already know who I am and if you don't, just ask about me. I'm Artie, Mr. Abrams if you're nasty and I know for a fact that some of you are." He took the time to animatedly point to a few random audience members who each hollered when they were singled out. "I have a special treat for you all tonight. The sweetest sounding voice in the city has decided to grace us with her presence. Please, try not to drool because we don't need a pool, for the beautiful, traffic-stopping, sweet, sultry, God made a mistaken when he let her leave heaven, Diana!"

Mercedes entered from the back and walked up the stage. She glowed under the red light, her skin looking both doughy and fiery under the color. She kissed Artie on the cheek before taking her place behind the center-situated microphone and wrapping her fingers softly around it.

I recognized the song immediately when she started. She performed a sweet, and to my untrained ear, flawless rendition of Michael Jackson's "Human Nature." I mouthed the words as she sang, entrancing the audience, myself included. I didn't know if her eyes caught mine during the song but I never broke my gaze, unable to look away from her as she poured herself into every note, seemingly having forgotten about the events that just transpired a few minutes ago. She was a different person up there; she was happy and I couldn't imagine seeing her any other way.

She graciously accepted the thunderous applause that followed the closing of the song and when she turned to give Artie his credit, she giggled sweetly as she found him clapping and blowing kisses in her direction. She played along, capturing the imaginary kisses and tucking them into the pockets of her dress. I had to smile as I watched the two interact and I wore the smile as I walked out of the club still listening as Mercedes thank the crowd and introduce the next song. I wanted to watch the duet she announced. I wasn't completely familiar with Diana Ross' "Endless Love" but every part of me craved to hear Mercedes' rendition of the song and to watch her in her bliss on the stage. But I couldn't; Mercedes probably needed her space and if she spotted me in the crowd or left the stage to find me still in the building, I didn't know how she'd react.

She was still on my mind as I navigated my way home. I switched off the radio in favor of my own less than great cover of "Human Nature." I didn't mind that the song was still with me or that when I sang out all I could truly hear was Mercedes honeyed voice in my ears. I thought about her on that stage again, the music flowing from her, as easily as talking, gave me shivers that wouldn't go away. Questions that I was nowhere near able to answer flooded my mind as I entered my home. Could I ever make Mercedes that happy?

_Would I ever get the chance to?_

* * *

**Thanks for reading! The reviews are always open and you can leave them anonymously so don't be scared to let me know what you think, good or bad. **_  
_


	8. Introductions

You know what goes here: Glee isn't mine.

**It feels like it's been a while since I've updated. Sorry about the wait but I took a little vacation and this chapter was somewhat difficult to write. But on the bright side, I think I know how I want to move Sam and Mercedes' relationship forward which means that very soon I will get to write my favorite type of Samcedes fanficion: smut! I'll shut up now, thanks for reading and don't forget to review!****  
**

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_**I'll walk away from you but I know I won't get far. The force that pulls me back will be too great to fight. However, who's to say that I'm not returning of my own volition?**_

I sunk to the couch as soon as I entered my apartment. I wasn't sure about how I felt or how I should feel. Part of me wanted to return to Mercedes to talk out whatever we needed to and move forward. Part of me wanted to delete her number and spend the next couple of weeks in a constantly tormented state as I tried to forget about her. Part of me just wanted to flop into bed and go to sleep.

My cell phone had been buzzing ever since I left the club and I decided to finally check it, hoping it would be enough of a distraction for the time being. I had managed to ignore it on the drive home, but another round of short hums caused me to yank the thing from my pocket.

_**4 Unread Messages**_

**Puck: hey man sugar just called. is everything ok?**  
**Puck: what did you do tonight? text me back**  
**Tina: Hi Sam! Puck says to check on you. Call me when you get a chance.**  
**Puck: seriously dude...answer me or i'm coming down there...you don't even know this chick...**

_**New Voicemail Message**_

**"Hey Sam, are you okay? Sugar called me all freaked out, said you got into a fight over Mercedes. I didn't know you guys were that serious but if this is the kind of stuff you're getting into because of her, maybe you should just leave her alone. She can't be good for you. Call me back when you get this."**

I deleted the voicemail and decided that I wouldn't be returning Puck's call. I sent a message to both he and Tina: **I'm fine. See you tomorrow.**

Who was Puck to be worried about me? The man whose romantic life looked eerily similar to a lingerie catalog with its endless parade of often barely dressed women, had no room to talk about things I shouldn't be getting into. I didn't want to hear any advice he had to give me. Tina, on the other hand, could be a resource but I was skeptical about going to her considering the fact that she seemed to keep the "love of her life" hidden away from Puck and I. We never got to meet the guy who was "so great," "so thoughtful," or "so incredibly caring," and just chalked it up to her not wanting us to be involved in her relationship. That was fine with me especially considering my current situation. I was going to make my own decisions and if all of it came to blow up in my face then I would just have another lesson under my belt and I'd be right back where I started: alone and unsatisfied.

I pulled myself up from the couch, leaving my cell phone behind, and headed straight for bed. After a night like tonight, I was ready for sleep and peaceful dreams that hopefully wouldn't be filled with a certain brown-skinned songstress. My waking hours were filled with thoughts of her and my sleeping hours were no different. Talking to her almost every night before bed hadn't helped and she'd often seep her way into my dreams no matter the context. If I dreamed about being a super hero or a secret agent, she was at my side. My Watson, my Robin, my Martha Jones. If I dreamed about more mundane activities like working, she became a coworker sauntering into my office and distracting me for the rest of the workday.

_The dreams started off innocent._

A flash of heat coursed through my body as I imagined my last dream.

_I was right where I standing now, in the doorway to my bedroom. Instead of staring at my neatly made bed and my blue striped comforter, I was gazing at Mercedes. My bedspread was thick and white and she lie in the middle of it, beckoning me to the bed. Without hesitation, I followed her command and came closer to see her sitting bathed in the moonlight from the window behind the bed. I could make out every curve of her body covered in nothing but a black lace bra and matching panties. When I was close enough, she hooked a finger into the band of the black boxer briefs I wore and pulled me to her. Once I was on top of her, settled comfortably between her legs, my response was automatic. I had been in this position before, with her, and I already knew what to do. I roamed her form assuredly, already knowing that nips along her jawline would cause her to lift her head and allow me to access her neck, knowing that taking handfuls of her plush ass would cause her to grind against me and moan at the feeling of my hardness pressed against her, knowing that when I made my way down to her breasts, that her nipples would be taut and begging me to tease them through the fabric of her bra._

_I wasted no time in allowing myself to touch every inch of her that my eager hands could reach. She was so unbelievably soft and welcoming, her skin yielding to my firm touches. I found the urge to continue in the moans she elicited as I sucked the skin along her neck and above her breasts. My hands found their way between her legs, rubbing her warm center above her panties, causing my name to fall softly from her mouth. I swore I never heard a sound as sweet. Not once did my lips leave her body as I took the time to remove her bra, my briefs, and her panties. I held myself above her, applying tender kisses to her lips as I swiped my cock along her slit. I needed to be inside of her, to join my body with her own and allow myself to be lost in the bliss that would follow soon after. _

_I didn't get the opportunity to do so. As the wet head of my dick found her opening and began to burrow its way inside, a shock went through my body and I woke up writing as the ball of pressure in my belly released triggering me to coat my sheets with cum._

I was too old for wet dreams. Too old to fantasize so vividly and think so much about one woman. I shook off the growing arousal in my jeans and slipped myself out of my clothes and into my pajama pants. I brushed my teeth and finally crawled into bed, completely spent from the day's events. I tossed for a few moments, trying to get comfortable but each time I moved I couldn't help but catch a glimpse of the yellow sheet of paper still sitting on my dresser. I got up once, then again, each tine to glance at the crumpled note.

'_I hope to never be him," it said._

_'You won't turn into him. I won't let you,' she said._

I sat on the edge of the bed raking my fingers through my hair and wondering what my problem was. Why did I want Mercedes so bad? What was so special about her? She wasn't the first woman to listen to any of my stories and jokes. As I thought, I did realize that she was probably the first one to ask for more; the first woman who didn't make me feel like an idiot for being in touch with my inner child. From what I could tell, Mercedes genuinely enjoyed me and more than that, _I_ enjoyed me when she was around.

_That was the difference_

She wasn't like the other women. She wanted more than a piece of fit, blond arm candy that didn't need to have even a drop of personality. She wasn't Rebecca who owned the art gallery and could only be bothered to call when she needed a date for an exhibition. She wasn't Shayla the fitness instructor who scoffed openly whenever I suggested a meal that didn't fit into her strict diet and bought me a treadmill for our anniversary. She wasn't Kira the spoiled rich girl who sat around the pool all day and didn't even acknowledge me unless my shirt was off. Mercedes was different and I wanted that, needed that. One year, two years, and eight months, respectively. My three longest relationships; each of them I should have stopped before I even started. Each of them, I shouldn't have gotten involved. Six weeks, half a year, three months. The amount of time it took me to end each of my past relationships, respectively. The amount of time it took me to stop chasing something that was less than I deserved, something that I didn't want.

I got back into bed and still couldn't find the sleep I was so desperately chasing. I laid beneath my covers for what seemed like hours, replaying the scenes from the night I kept getting stuck on that damn kiss and the way my throat dried and the way that shivers graced my entire being when my lips touched hers. I groaned, knowing that somehow I was back to sleepless nights with Mercedes racing through my mind. Sleep and I had been on good terms since I was able to speak to Mercedes daily but now that the future of any possible relationship I had with her hung in the balance, I couldn't push away the uneasy feeling that washed over me.

A knock on my door had me back out of bed. I didn't bother to check the time and didn't bother to question who would be visiting so late. A look through the peephole and a peek at the top of a head of familiar dark hair had my breath hitching and the door swinging open.

"Mercedes, what are you doing here?" I tried to hide the excitement in my voice. I couldn't say that Mercedes and I were in a good place but the fact that she was here, that she showed up for me in the middle of the night, had to mean something.

She didn't answer my question, only acknowledged it with half a smile that soon faded. Her jaw clenched and she spoke to me in a soft, yet stern voice. "You were wrong. You know that, don't you? You had no reason - no right to follow me. You didn't listen at all when I tried to warn you, tried to tell you that I needed to go at my own pace." She shook her finger at me and though I was currently being chastised, I couldn't shake off how adorable she looked still in her cocktail dress.

_Still as stunning as before. _

I bit back a smile and offered another apology. "The only thing I can say is that I'm sorry. If you're angry with me, I understand. And if you don't want to see me anymore-" I paused. I thought to give her an out just in case she wanted to stop whatever we were doing but she cut me off before I could continue.

"I didn't say that." She sighed before proceeding, "I'm not really upset with you Sam; I don't have the damn energy to be upset. And if I'm completely honest with myself, I have to admit that I'm kind of thankful that you showed up." My eyebrows shot up at the statement. Everything was still confusing to me and the fact that I was exhausted didn't help. I let her continue, "Things are entirely out of hand with Mike and I, and tonight really made me see that. My life is a fucking circus right now. I've been trying to convince myself that I could just wash my hands of the situation and walk away but-" she shook her head and looked down at the floor.

I completed her thought, "It's never that easy." She looked up at me and nodded, shifting slightly from one foot to the other. I didn't mind the silence, didn't mind having her in my space again, didn't mind the fact that she came for _me_.

She took a deep breath and offered a faint smile before she spoke again. "You asked what I told Mike last month." Seeing me nod, she went on, "I told him that maybe we could try, that maybe we could work something out. I didn't mean it, I just wanted him to get his hopes up and feel as let down as I did." I could see the tears welling up in her eyes but she blinked them away quickly. "I was in love with him but I don't feel that way about him anymore - I can't." Her tone was indifferent each time she spoke the word _love_. The feelings had obviously dissipated from her and all she was left with was the scars they left behind.

_I knew the feeling too well._

"He has a wife, Sam and I may have ruined their marriage because I fell in love with a man who I didn't know was married. I was stupid and I lied to my best friend and now I've drug you into it and I feel like shit. I know that it's my fault - all of it. I should have stayed away from him but I didn't - I couldn't. I'm trying to be better now, to be stronger. I need to fix me." A tear escaped and my hand was there to brush it away before it reached the swell of her cheek. I cupped her face in my palm, enjoying her warmth as she nuzzled into it. I pulled her closer to me, close enough that I could breathe her in again and rested my forehead against hers. We both laughed at the contented sighs we released and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep myself from crashing my mouth to hers. The gesture could show her that I understood, that I was willing to hear her out and go from there but in this moment, I decided it would be wiser to use my words.

"Do you want to come in?" I asked, staring at the brown eyes trained thoughtfully on my own.

Her breath tickled my lips as she spoke, "If you want me to. I'm letting you decide, Sam. That's not the whole story but it's part of it."

"I want you to come in but under one condition."

"What's that?" she pulled away and waited for my reply.

"You tell me everything. No matter how bad it makes you look. I like you. I like the woman with the loud laugh who is a great cook and who I'm pretty sure is an actual angel when she sings. I want her." I stepped closer to her this time, my hand still cupping her face. "We've all fucked up and nothing that you've done has to affect me unless you do those same things to me. I know we may have taken a step back but I'm willing to start over."

She placed a hand over mine and turned her face to kiss my palm. Speaking into it she ordered, "Go inside and close the door."

"Why?" I asked not ready to give her another opportunity to run away from me again.

"Just do," she urged with a warm smile. I took a deep breath and stepped back into my apartment, trusting that she'd be there when I opened the door again. As soon as the door was closed, she knocked lightly three times. I swung it open to find her standing with a toothy grin that I couldn't help but return.

_She has to know how beautiful she is when she smiles._

"Hi, my name is Mercedes Jones. I used to be involved with a married man who is apparently still in love with me but I want nothing to do with him. I work in a community center where I'm also on the board of directors. Singing is a passion of mine and sometimes I get paid to do it. I saw you in the park about a month ago and you took my breath away. I would really like to get to know you if you think you have the time." The smile didn't leave her face as she spoke. The sober weariness that had deflated her throughout the evening had vanished. In its place, was a genuine pep that brightened her eyes as she delivered her introduction.

I decided to follow suit and offer my own greeting. "It's nice to meet you, Mercedes Jones. My name is Sam Evans. All of my family is in Tennessee and I'm very single. I work as a website designer for a moderately sized graphic design firm. I enjoy superhero movies, making people laugh, and all kinds of art. I saw you in the park about a month ago and you haven't left my thoughts since. I would really like to get to know you if you think you have the patience for a guy who has a tendency to be a little impulsive and may occasionally put his nose where it doesn't belong if he's worried about someone."

She extended a hand to me and I shook it firmly. "It's nice to meet you too, Sam."

"Would you like to come in, Mercedes?"

"I would."

I pulled her into the apartment and into a strong hug once we were inside. Neither of us were quite ready for sleep, so we decided to curl up on the couch with reheated slices of pizza and late night television until I began drifting off. She nudged me awake with a giggle, stroking my cheek and suggesting we call it a night. I offered her my bed, a pair of shorts, and one of my favorite t-shirts to sleep in. Before I could get comfortable on the couch, Mercedes crept out of my room and into the living room. I thought maybe she was going to leave again and was surprised when she pulled the blanket from me and held out a hand to help me up. I followed her into the bedroom where we each settled ourselves on a side of the bed. We shared an innocent good night kiss before allowing our tiredness to get the best of us.

_I don't know when the mood changed._

I woke up with an arm wrapped around Mercedes' middle and my face nuzzled into her neck, the smell of raspberry overtaking me. She was shifting beneath me as I fell back into a sleep I didn't know I needed so badly.

* * *

**So how are we feeling? I hope that I'm not pushing Sam and Mercedes together too quickly. There had to be a little forward movement and I hope this wasn't too much. I also hope you guys don't mind that my urge to include a little Samcedes smut got the best of me and I slipped a little in.**

**Mercedes' chapter (possibly chapters because I have so much to cover with that woman) is coming up next and we'll get to see a day in the life of this fascinating lady.**

**Please keep the reviews coming, they inspire me to get the chapters up faster and I get to talk to you guys as well so please don't leave me hanging here all by myself!**

******Also, I just wanted to say a quick yet heartfelt thank you to everyone for reading and if you're not sick of me, be sure to check out my collection of Samcedes one-shots: "This, That, and a Few Other Things." **


	9. Restorations

**__Are you guys still here? Sorry about the wait, I've been busying myself with a ton of one-shot writing because I felt like I needed some writing practice before I came back here. If you haven't seen it, "This, That, and a Few other Things" is my collection of Samcedes one-shots if you like your Samcedes short and sweet. That's it, I'll shut up.**

***Mercedes' POV will be two chapters long, seeing as there is a lot to cover. Enjoy!**

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_**I plan to move forward. I pledge to start over. I pray to not look back.**_

It had been quite some time since I woke up in the arms of another person. Sam had curled up to me at some point in the middle of the night and I took the initiative to wrap his arms around my middle and snuggle into his firm chest. The cologne he wore did things to me and the warmth of his body made me never want to leave my current position.

Sam had a build similar to Mike but I didn't feel the same in his arms. I slept the whole way through the night, never popping up at random intervals due to my being in a strange hotel bed that wasn't my own or Mike getting up and leaving, probably going back to his wife. Not once did I feel a shake in the bed or hear Sam rustling around to grab his things in a hurry to leave me.

_He was different._

I traced my fingers lightly up and down his forearms, trying not to wake him. Trying to familiarize myself with his body, etching every vein, every hair, and every mark on his pale skin into my memory just in case I never got to be in this position again.

The past couple of weeks had my head spinning. I turned in Sam's arms and still asleep, he pulled me closer. I didn't fight it, I relaxed against his body completely, glad for the moment of calm. Whatever Sam and I had wasn't perfect, it wasn't ideal, and it was probably one of the worst ways to begin a relationship but I wanted it, all of it. I wanted the awkward moments, the effortless conversations, the jokes, the hugs and cuddling, and after last night, I definitely wanted the kisses - his kisses.

I should have been mad at him last night, should have just cut off whatever we started and forgotten about him. But as I stared at his sleeping form, peaceful and quiet, I couldn't hold a grudge against the man. Normally, I would have cursed him out, sent him on his way with his tail between his legs and feeling so bad that he'd never come anywhere near me again. If anything, I've always known how to chase people away and Sam could be just another name on that list of friends, acquaintances, and lover's I sent packing. But I couldn't.

_I couldn't hurt him._

Moving a few stray hairs from his face, I knew I couldn't bring myself to cause this man any harm. The man who not only let me cry, and express a small portion of the grief I had been holding in for the past couple of years, but also listened and offered consoling words while I did so. He didn't tell me not to cry like Mike did. Didn't try to stop my tears by distracting me like Finn did. He didn't close himself up and refuse to talk to me like my brother did. Sam just let me cry.

We would have to talk about boundaries, about trust, about patience and if we ever got that far, we'd have those talks. But for now, I wanted to be nowhere else in the world, with no one else.

My hand found the side of his face. Fingers grazed along his cheek. Eye glided shut. Finally, lips puckered and leaned in to meet his. Soft, gentle, chaste. It was meant as a thank you. A sweet acknowledgement for the little things he'd done for me so far.

_One wasn't enough._

Wanting more, my lips went in again, pressing themselves to him until a smile appeared and his bright, green eyes fluttered open.

"Good morning," was all I got out before his lips met mine. We exchanged pecks and smiles, waking each other fully with the soft affections. I don't recall whose tongue swiped the seam of whose lips but soon our mouths were parted, allowing each of our bold tongues to become acquainted.

It was Sam who rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him. It was me who threaded my fingers through his short hair and moaned as he nibbled on my bottom lip. He didn't stop us. I didn't stop us. I didn't want to. The aggressive beeping of his alarm clock stopped us and I remembered that I wasn't his. I wasn't his girlfriend who could call in sick and spend a lazy day in bed making out with my boyfriend. Maybe one day I would be but today I was a woman with responsibilities, with tasks to complete, and a few relationships to fix. I had things to do and if I was lucky, maybe one day I'd add Sam to that list but today wasn't that day.

I reluctantly pulled myself from his bed with him right behind me. He lent me a toothbrush and offered to let me keep the clothing I'd borrowed to go home. Too soon, I was at his door again, joking that he didn't need to follow me this time and after a tight hug, we shared a deep, slow kiss that would be more than enough to get me through the day.

Back at my apartment, I entered slowly, peering up and down the street for Mike's black convertible. He was nowhere in sight and my cell phone was surprisingly devoid of missed calls and messages. After leaving McKinley's last night, I found myself driving around, not ready to go home just in case Mike was there waiting for me. I thought about going to see Finn but decided in favor of giving him his normal cool down period before I approached him. Artie even offered me a guest room for the night, or as long as I needed, but there was only one place I really wanted to go. I was knocking on Sam's door an hour after I left, hoping that he wouldn't answer and I could stave off having any sort of conversation with him.

When he answered the door, things just came pouring out of me, things I hadn't thought out and wasn't sure about saying. All I was sure of is that I showed up to his door for a reason. Whatever that reason was, it had me nervous and my heart fluttering wildly.

_Sam was that reason._

After a shower, I was back in my daily uniform of a sensible dress and heels. Today was a green dress that reminded me of Sam's eyes and my whole body warmed as I allowed my thoughts to drift back to that moment in his arms this morning. I made myself a promise. I promised that I would work on me and if somewhere in that process I could do so, I'd work on a relationship with Sam.

Kurt was waiting in my office when I got to work. He'd been assisting me for several years now and as he did every day, he was waiting for me with coffee and my daily list of things to do. He ran down the list in his normal animated fashion and as he spoke, I took the time to appreciate the fashionable ensemble he wore.

Kurt started off assisting my parents and when their duties at the center were dropped into my lap, he was pivotal in my transition from lounge singer to community leader. He always joked that he'd gotten hired because my mother was a fan of the robes he'd designed for our choir but Kurt had always been like a second son to my parents. As much as I wished that we had been closer and that we would spend time together outside of work, I didn't need another life to mess up so I kept Kurt at arm's length.

I was glad to listen about his relationship with his single father, his pitfalls and successes in dating, and all the new clothing purchases he'd describe to me in great detail but I kept my conversations simpler, always being polite, but never offering more than what was necessary in a discussion. He'd never hear about my affair with Mike, my temporary falling out with Finn, or my budding relationship with Sam. But I was more than glad to listen about the dark haired, bright eyed, bowtie enthusiast he began seeing a couple of months ago. Blaine, was his name and it warmed my heart to hear the way Kurt spoke of him.

I wanted that, glazed eyes and a far off expression as I spoke about a man that I was absolutely smitten with. Maybe one day I would have it, one day when I would deserve it.

"Who in their right mind would purchase something so hideous?" Kurt questioned, holding up a multicolored blouse he plucked from one of the boxes of donated clothes we were sorting through.

After a staff meeting, a workshop on community engagement, lunch, and getting through most of the mountain of paperwork on my desk, I was finally able to participate in some of my favorite work. Kurt had the idea to start a clothing drive and we sprang into action immediately, starting with donations from own wardrobes before various people around the center and community began to help. The boxes and bags of unwanted things came in droves and Kurt and I spearheaded the task of sorting everything out.

"Be nice," I warned, tossing the offending blouse into our designated pile of tops. "You never know, Kurt, one day you might down on your luck and all you'll have is that donated shirt to wear."

"I'd go nude."

"Yeah, and you can tell me how that plan goes when winter hits." Before Kurt could come back without another quip, we heard the loud clicking of heels echoing down the hall in our direction. The sound was soon accompanied by a boisterous voice and we knew who it was before we even saw her face.

"Well if it isn't my two favorite princesses!" Santana squealed, walking into the back of the gym in the area we commandeered for our project. Along with the large trash bag she drug behind her, she wore a big smile on her face along with her work uniform and her long dark hair pulled into a tight ponytail. "I brought some of my old stuff for you all. Also, I'm here to help out for a little bit."

"I'm sorry, Miss Lopez," Kurt scoffed, with his hands on his hips, "When exactly was the last time you did any volunteer work?"

"It's only been like a year since I've been here. I have been a very busy lady. You guys should be proud of me, I have a job now and I'm not mooching off you two anymore," she pouted, crossing her arms to try and get out of the lecture she knew she'd have coming from Kurt and I for not showing her face around the center more often.

"Okay, chica, we're proud," I admitted, gathering her into a tight hug. "Now quit your pouting and get busy. There is lots to be done, my love."

"Ooooh, Cedes, you know I love it when you order me around," she flirted with a shake of her shoulders and a pat to my bum.

Kurt was the one who introduced me to Santana. He brought her to the center when she was in need of a few hot meals and some of the life skills classes we offered. At first, she was too proud to take the charity but after a stern talk from Kurt, she didn't argue and allowed the center to work its magic to get her back on her feet.

I had no idea how she and Kurt had gotten to be friends but I loved their dynamic and quickly became a part of it as well. But, like with Kurt, I didn't spend much time with Santana outside of The Jones Center though she was undoubtedly the closet thing I had to a best female friend. If I really thought about it, other than the occasional night out at McKinley's, I didn't spend too much time with anyone. Finn was busy with his girlfriend and I didn't want to take away any of the free time he could be spending with Tina. I kept to myself most nights, throwing myself into cooking and decorating my apartment.

_My life wasn't bad, it was just lonely. _

After a few hours of sorting and organizing our stock for the bags we would be making for the local homeless population, Kurt and I decided to call it a day. Normally, at this point I would have headed home, but I had one more stop to make before I could call it a night. The situation with Finn wasn't going to fix itself and I knew that if given more time, and left to his own devices, Finn would be unreachable in a matter of days. Before Santana could leave to head for the bus stop, I caught up with her, offering her a ride since we were going to the same place.

Once we got to Hubray, she headed straight upstairs and I was right on her heels. I walked swiftly past Quinn's office, intent on avoiding the confrontation that could come at any moment. I knew who Quinn was and as far as I knew she only knew _of_ me. I wasn't sure if she knew about Mike and I but if she did, there were a few things that Finn let slip that probably wouldn't go over so well at her little country club. The woman wasn't the angel everyone thought her to be and I'd have plenty my own ammunition if the battle ever came.

By no means did I want to fight the woman. In fact, I felt sorry for her. Her marriage was failing and as far as I knew, that was my fault. At some point, I would apologize to her, I'd exit the situation and walk away from she and her husband. I didn't need anything the two of them had to offer and maybe they could fix whatever was wrong between them if I was completely out of the picture. Maybe Mike would confess to all he'd done and Quinn would do the same and maybe a couple of therapy sessions would get them back on track or maybe they'd amicably decide to divorce and never speak to one another again. Either way, I'd be out of it and hopefully by that point, I would have done everything in my power to atone for what I did to the both of them.

Finn was in his office, as expected, and cradling a bottle of expensive vodka to his chest, also as expected. If Finn was ever in a huff about anything, the minimum cool down time was about 10-12 hours after which there would be a window of 6-8 hours where he would probably have a drink or two and willingly discuss the issue. If I waited much longer after that, I'd have to spend at least three days having my calls ignored until Finn felt "ready to communicate."

I didn't know what I was walking into but I was going to let what happened between us last night fester. We were going to start fixing this because carrying around the tension wouldn't be good for either of us.

I greeted him with a smirk as I closed the door behind me and walked toward his desk. The man still looked externally put together in a black button up and charcoal slacks but by the way he held the unopened bottle to his chest and stared off into space, I could tell his interior didn't match his exterior.

"What do you want?" he asked curtly, his eyes not moving in my direction until I crossed the room and rounded his desk.

"That's quite the fucked up way to greet your best friend." I snatched the bottle from his arms and removed two shot glasses from the shelf behind his desk. I situated myself on one of the couches across the room and beckoned him to join me. I poured shots for the two of us and took mine down immediately. The familiar burn settled in my throat as he sat unmoving, glaring at me from his desk chair.

"You not coming over?" He didn't respond, only kept up the intense glare. "Fine, more for me then." After a second shot, I knew I couldn't keep this up for long. I resisted the urge to cough or throw up the warm liquid that had my chest on fire. I kept my voice stern as I spoke, knowing that a little gruffness would be in order, "Finn, please come over here so we can talk. I know you're mad at me but the least you can do is let me explain. After that, if you want to kick me out then so be it. I'll leave when I'm done but not a moment before. I won't even kick your ass about that little comment you made about me hopping from one dick to another. I'm better than that, we both are." I lined up another shot for myself, sending up a silent prayer that I would still have an esophagus when the day was through. Before I could take it down, Finn pried it from my hands.

"Why would you come here - after what I said?" he asked, taking the shot and not even flinching as the alcohol disappeared from his cup.

"I needed to hear some of what you said, Finn. You know what I learned last night?"

"What's that?"

I lined up two more shots as he settled against the leather sofa, "People don't just love you unconditionally, that shit doesn't happen. There is always something that keeps them loving you and once that thing is tainted - it's over. The only people who truly loved me that way are dead and I've ruined every other chance I've had to allow anyone else to love me in that manner."

"Don't say that."

"Why not? Finn, you only loved me until I lied to you, until I couldn't be your perfect little Cedes anymore."

He balled up his fists, letting out a frustrated groan before he spoke, "God, where do you get off being so down on yourself? Unconditional love does exist outside of family. I don't love you because you're perfect and I didn't say I don't love you any more, Cedes. I was just disappointed -." He shot up from the couch and began pacing around, breathing deeply as he continued "I was hurt! You never hurt me before, never gave me any reason not to trust you. How was I supposed to react?" He turned to me with his arms held out expectantly waiting for my answer that came out before I even thought about it.

"Not like a kid who didn't get what they wanted for Christmas! Whatever our issues, they don't need to be aired out in public, it was bad enough that Mike was there-"

"He was there because you led him on! You agreed to see him and he still thinks you want him. You have to fucking _**close things off Mercedes**_, you can't just expect him to stop loving you."

"Why not? I stopped loving him." I crossed my arms and fell back against the sofa, my eyes trained to the ceiling not chancing to look back at the pained express on Finn's face. Now wasn't the time to start crying and it took everything in me to hold onto my tough façade.

Finn sighed, moving back to the couch and sitting beside me, leaning back next to me. His voice was calm as he spoke, "Because you realized that you deserve more than that, more than some dickhead who can't give himself to you completely. You deserve to be loved Mercedes, fiercely, wholly, _unconditionally_. I'm not going to stop loving you, ever. We mean too much to one another but you have to stop getting yourself into shit that you know isn't good for you."

"Like Mike?"

_One tear. _

One fucking tear couldn't hold it together as it slipped down my cheek. Finn was quick to fish a handkerchief from his pocket and dab the traitor from my cheeks.

"Exactly like Mike."

A shaky breath left me and though I felt momentarily better because Finn seemed to sympathize, I knew we still weren't done. My tone was barely above a whisper as I spoke, finally allowing my eyes to meet Finn's saddened gaze, "And you have to stop treating me like I'm not allowed to mess up. I'm not perfect, Finnie."

"I know that." He grabbed my hand, stroking the back of it with his thumb, doing his best to comfort me. This wasn't what I had planned; I wasn't supposed to be the one who was mess. I was supposed to come here, comfort Finn, and fix the little tear in our relationship, not the other way around. Comfort wasn't exactly Finn's area of expertise and I knew we were in uncharted territory.

"Do you? I fucked up and you acted as if I ruined _your_ life. I'm going to mess up and I thank you for trying to help but I don't want to be your burden."

"Why not? I was your burden for the past twenty years."

"I took care of you because you actually needed it. All these years you've been trying to pay me back, honey, but I don't need you to do that. I did everything I did for you out of love, not because I wanted or expected anything from you. We're friends, always have been, and whether you like it or not, always will be."

"I just feel like I owe you."

"Do you remember senior prom?"

"Of course."

"So I'm guessing that you remember that you were the only guy who could get past my dad and take me to the dance. If it wasn't for you, I would have been stuck at home." We both chuckled, recalling his rented tuxedo and the corsage made from the flowers in my mother's garden.

"You were always his little girl. He protected you from everything and everybody. Do you remember the time when we ran after the ice cream truck and they didn't have any more of those red white and blue popsicles you used to love? All you had to do was poke out that bottom lip of yours and your dad drove to ten different grocery stores to get you one."

"I remember."

"I guess - I just - I was trying to be that for you as much as I could, you know? Just trying to be there for you. Your brother wasn't here and I promised your parents I would always take care of you, Cedes. I was keeping my promise."

"I understand that but you have to know that I'm not that fragile anymore. I don't cry just because I don't get my way. If I make a bad decision I need to deal with it, not have you try and step in and 'take care of things.'"

"Right. You know I'm sorry don't you? After last night I thought-"

"What, that I was going to disappear from your life or something? You know way too much about me for me to stay on your bad side, Finnie."

"Same here." He threw an arm around me, pulling me close and applying a soft kiss to my forehead.

I snuggled into him, feeling relief in the gesture. "And for the tenth time, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have lied about the whole thing with Mike it was -"

"Complicated?"

"I was actually just going to say downright stupid. But I guess that's the benefit of hindsight talking. It would take a little while to get that whole story out."

He shrugged, letting me go to leaning over to pour and toss back another shot, "I'm not busy right now and I'm not letting you drive home so why don't we get some of the story out of the way now."

"I don't even know where to start."

"Well, tell me why you went back."

I took a deep breath, as I tried to recall just how my reconciliation with Mike happened. I hadn't shared the story with anyone but with my not having had dinner and the shots beginning to kick in, I started at what I thought was the beginning, "He kept sending these huge checks to The Jones Center. I kept mailing them back until someone on the board got pissed at me - but we didn't need his money, and I knew he just wanted a reason to come around. If he ever came down to see me I'd hide in my office and tell Kurt not to let him past. That was a great plan until I had to start accepting his donations. There were banquets, ceremonies, luncheons, all of these things he now had every right to attend just because he wrote a few checks."

"So what did he end up doing?" Finn asked, crossing the room and offering me some of the candy from his desk before sitting back down.

I took a couple of butterscotch candies and popped one into my mouth as I continued, "In the simplest terms, he cornered me."

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**Finn and Mercedes still aren't perfect but hopefully they can keep things on track. We'll see! Next chapter is more Mercedes and some flashbacks. It should be along in a couple of days since it's mostly written. **

**Thank you all for sticking with me and please leave a review if you have the time, even if it's just to curse me out for leaving this without an update for so long. All feedback is appreciated! Thanks for reading!**


	10. Progressions

_****_**Hi all! I'll keep it short. First, I started another fic called "Hate to Hate You" with slightly AU high school Samcedes and I'll be starting another AU one very soon in addition to continuing my one-shot writing. But this fic is still my first priority and I plan to finish it as long as you all want to read it. **

**This is part two of Mercedes' POV and it's pretty dialogue-heavy but we get some flashbacks. I hope it's not too hard to follow. Remember that blocks of italics are previous events. **

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_**No one can hold us back but ourselves. Who else knows us better? Who else knows our weaknesses? Who else isn't afraid to use them against us? If we want to win, there's only person we need to fight.**_

_"Please come back, Cedes. I just want to talk to you for a minute." He was whining at this point but I wasn't stopping as Mike practically chased me down a corridor in The Jones Center. Following a dinner for our top donors and special presentation by our cooking class, I high-tailed it out of the banquet room and was well on my way to my office. Mike had been watching me the whole night, making eyes at me as I gave my speech and sending notes to my table through the wait staff. When the event was over, I had had enough. Instead of my normal elbow rubbing, I passed off my ass-kissing duties to Kurt and excused myself with the lie of an upset stomach. I had only made it a few feet before Mike was calling after me and trying to stop me. _

_We ended up in my office. I wanted to take him somewhere private so he could say what he had to and go._

_That was probably my biggest mistake._

"What did he say?" Finn asked, placing a hand atop mine and urging me to continue.

I shook my head, gritting my teeth as I remembered the evening. "So fucking much."

_He began talking the moment I shut the door behind us. "Please don't say anything, Mercedes. I just need you to know a few things," Mike said, trying to grab hold of me._

_I pushed away, walking behind my desk to put some space between us. "Fine, say what you have to and then go."_

_"First, I love you."_

_"More than you love your wife?"_

_"Stop it!" he ordered, rushing toward me, "This isn't about her. This is about me and you, Mercedes, and what we feel for each other. You can't stand there and tell me that you don't still love me. I've spent only two months without you and they've been the worst two months I've had in 30 fucking years. What am I supposed to do without you? How am I supposed to live without you?"_

_"You are **married,** Michael. I can't have anything to do with you."_

_"Don't you miss me, Mercedes? Don't you still love me?" he asked in a pleading voice, moving to stand in front of me and cradle me in his arms. _

_"I-I-"_

_"Say it. Because I fucking need to hear it or I won't leave you alone. I can't. Tell me you don't love me Mercedes." I shook my head, trying as best I could to deny it but the words wouldn't leave me. "I know this is tough for us now, baby, but we're going to get through it. You and me. She's not the one for me, Cedes, you are."_

_"What do you want from me, Mike?" I asked, breaking down in his arms. _

_"I just want you, Cedes. Just your time, just the love I know you have for me, that's all I'm asking for."_

_"I don't know if I can-"_

_"You can. You are so capable of love. You are such a beautiful person. She's not. She's not you. She's not warm and inviting and sweet and soft and the woman I want to be with forever. She doesn't even come close."_

"I'm not proud to say this, but I kind of melted after that. We cried in one another's arms for like ten minutes then we fucked on the carpet. Really romantic shit, right?" I took another shot, wincing as I swallowed trying to find courage in the alcohol.

Finn chucked, shaking his head and reaching for his cell phone. "He really does know how to woo a woman," he teased.

"I couldn't deny how I felt about him and I didn't have any other defense. I knew what we were doing was wrong, that I was wrong, but Mike made it seem like everything would magically be okay. He promised me that he would never hurt me again. I should have known better."

"Nothing good could have come from any that, but you need to stop letting what you did haunt you. You don't have to be this mistress for the rest of your life. That doesn't have to be you if you don't want it." He pushed up from the couch, walking to the door, "I gotta take a leak. I'm gonna order us a pizza, kid. I think we're going to be here a while."

I nodded as disappeared out of the door, allowing myself to think about his words in the suddenly quiet room. To some degree, he was right. I was able to walk away from being the mistress because I wanted to and I was strong enough to do so.

_But I still wonder if I'm strong enough to move on completely. _

Immediately, I thought of Sam, of being able to be a normal relationship that wasn't based on secrets and the thrill of having your cake and eating it too. I knew things with Sam would different and I wanted different but I couldn't waltz up and claim it before I was ready for it.

"I don't think you could possibly understand," I said quietly as Finn reentered the room, closing the door behind him. "It's really hard to shake off the pain of ruining a marriage."

He scoffed, sitting back down beside me, "You can't ruin it if it's already a mess."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Let me just say, that Mike and Quinn are two people who shouldn't be married at all let alone to one another. Their relationship is so shitty, you couldn't have ruined it if you were trying to. Don't let it weigh on you because guess what? If it wasn't you that Mike fell in love with it would have been someone else, anyone else, anybody but Quinn." Finn's pale cheeks flushed as he breathed deeply, "You can't spend the rest of your life beating yourself up over this. All you can do is let him go, apologize, and move on."

"You're right," I said, swallowing deeply and accepting the sound advice.

"And from now on, no more lies, no more keeping shit from me. I won't try and fix things for you anymore unless you ask me to. Otherwise, I'll just listen and offer my advice when solicited," Finn suggested putting out his long arms for a hug.

I agreed, leaning in to accept his hug. "I'm really sorry, Finnie."

"I know, and so am I. And I want you to know that we're going to be fine as soon as we stop calling each other just when we need something - we're better than that, babe."

"Very true."

Soon, our pizza arrived, extra cheese with chicken, bacon, and mushrooms on my half and any piece of meat they could find on Finn's. It felt just like old times, staying up late and talking about anything and everything and I was comfortable again with Finn like I hadn't been in quite some time.

_That is, until he brought up Sam. _

"So, who was that guy from last night, the one who kissed you," Finn asked, polishing off his fourth slice.

"That was Sam."

"And who exactly is Sam?" he pressed, passing me a pepperoni in exchange for my crust.

"Well, Sam is new. The situation with him is strange and _slightly_ fucked up but somehow the man still wants to see me."

"And I'm sure there's a story to go along with that statement," Finn teased with a smirk.

"I'll keep it short."

I told him about the park. How I ended up there after I almost fell off the wagon again with Mike. He had cornered me in a storage closet of all places and I was about to give in when the janitor rapped loudly on the door, scaring some sense into me. I went to the park to clear my head but it turned into the world's most dramatic purse-ditching to ever be performed. Last, I told Finn about Sam coming over, the amazing dinner we shared, and the immediate connection I felt with him.

"We ended up falling asleep on the couch and when I woke up a couple of hours later, I kind of panicked a little so I left. It freaked me out, just being so comfortable around a stranger. It's still kind of weird but in a good way."

Finn sat leaned back on the couch, quiet for a moment before he asked, "And you want to see him, even with all the stuff with Mike?"

"More than anything. I just want to make sure I don't hurt him."

"You don't have to, just be careful," he warned patting me on the knee. "Tell me more about him."

"Well, he works as a graphic designer, he's incredibly sweet, though somewhat impulsive, but very caring and he's got this certain - charm about him."

"What's his last name?"

"You going to run a background check?"

"If I need to -"

"Don't you dare. It's Evans, though. Sam Evans."

"That name sounds kind of familiar. Where does he work?"

"This firm downtown, I think it's called _Figg-Leaf Designs_ or something like that. I think it's in the same area of the community center."

"I just feel like I may have seen his face before and I've definitely heard that name. I think he's a friend of Tina's."

"And you never met him before last night?"

"No, I just heard the name in passing, you know? I've never really met any of T's friends and she hasn't met any of my important ones. Scratch that, _the_ important one. We don't really get out much."

"Too busy giving her the business right, Hudson?" I teased, giving him a playful elbow to the rib. "I'll meet her one day," I promised, attempting to avoid the conversation.

Finn didn't let up, continuing he said, "She always asks who the famous Cedes is but I can't even describe you to her. I just tell her that you're great and she rolls her eyes at me, never fails," he stated with a deep laugh. "She even suggested I may be cheating a time or two but I told her how long we've known each other and she backed off but I still want you guys to meet. I think you'd love her and it wouldn't hurt you to make another friend. Besides, it will be really awkward when we get married and the bride has never met the best man."

"_When? _And I never agreed to be your best man."

"When," he affirmed, "And you know no one else is suited for that job other than you. I want you to know that I love her, Cedes. That's no secret. And as soon as I'm in a better place business-wise, I'm going to marry her. I'm sure of it."

"I'm glad for you. You deserve it. And she better treat your ass like a king or else," I threatened with a kiss to his cheek. It truly warmed my heart to see Finn so happy. I had seen too many girls come and go with my best friend only to leave him in pieces that I would be forced to pick up. That's how we discovered McKinley's. After some pleated skirt wearing bitch broke my friend's heart I decided to take him out and cheer him up. The rest is history.

"You should meet her just in case you ever have to kick her ass," Finn suggested, still stuck on the prospect of Tina and I meeting.

"You're not going to stop pushing this are you?"

"Never. Look, let's just go out to dinner. You can bring Sam and we'll make it a double date. Plus, I can apologize for being an asshole in front of him. You know you want to see that."

"Maybe. I don't know if we're _there_ yet. I feel like I need to wrap up with Mike before we actually start dating."

"You're doing this kind of backwards aren't you? You already kissed the guy."

I swatted Finn's arm as I broke out into a giggle, "I had nothing to do with that."

"You didn't pull away, Cedes. You liked it, you like him. He's not married is he?"

"He's very single. I already learned my damn lesson there," I said calming down.

"I hope it works out for you. _You_ deserve it, and I deserve the chance to formally meet the guy."

"If we decide to keep going, you'll meet him, I promise. We'll do the double dinner date and everything."

"That's my girl. I can't wait." Finn went for one more slice of pizza, this time taking one from my half. "You gonna stick around tonight?" he asked, taking a large bite.

"Is Quinn going to be around?"

"She's leaving early. She and Mike have this huge anniversary party coming up and she says she's got all this planning to do."

"Maybe I can stay for a little."

Four hours later, I was being ushered into the back of a cab with Finn by my side. He ordered the driver to his home instead of my apartment and we laughed in the back throughout the whole ride. When we finally reached his house, he couldn't wrestle out his keys fast enough so we both began pounding on the door until a petite Asian woman answered, dressed for bed and somewhat annoyed.

"Hi," she said hesitantly, glancing between the two of us.

"Hello!" Finn hollered, pulling her into his arms and kissing her deeply.

Pulling away from the kiss, she narrowed her eyes at him, "Are you drunk, Finn?"

"Prossibly," he mumbled, sending us both into another round of giggles.

She sighed deeply, grabbing Finn's hand and leading him into the house, "Let's get you to bed."

He stopped her, reaching out to pull me into the house behind him. "Wait! This is perfect! Tina! This is Cedes! My bestest friend ever. This is her! She's the one who used to take care of me, baby."

"You're Cedes?" she asked, letting go of Finn to regard me skeptically.

"Yes and I'm really sorry about bringing him home like this. I didn't mean to, we just had a long day is all. But shoot, where are my manners? I'm Mercedes Jones it's nice to meet you, Tina! Finnie wants to marry you!" I announced proudly before Finn clapped a hand over my mouth.

"Wait, so you're_ Mercedes_. _Mercedes Jones_?" she asked, prying Finn from my face.

"Yup, the only one I know."

"Also known as _Cedes_?" She spoke slowly, glancing between Finn and I as the wheels turned in her head.

"Uh, yeah. Did I do something wrong?"

"I'm not sure yet but I'm not letting you go home by yourself like this. You can stay here tonight."

"I couldn't I-"

"Sleepover!" Finn shouted, picking me up to spin me around excitedly. "Come on I've got jammies for you!"

After he sat me back down, Finn nearly yanked my arm out of its socket pulling me through the house and upstairs to his bedroom where he shot into his closet and back out holding a tank top and a pair of plaid pajama pants.

"For you, my love," he announced, bowing as he handed me the clothing.

After we changed, we sipped cups of coffee prepared by Tina and the two of them tucked me into bed in the guest room before retiring to their own. It didn't take long for me to fall asleep and before I knew it, the sun was shining through the windows and waking me.

I could smell food cooking and after stealing a toothbrush from the guest bathroom, I padded my way downstairs while sending a quick text to Kurt letting him know I would be running a little late today and finally returning the good night text I had received from Sam. When I walked into the kitchen, I found Finn hovering over a pan of pancakes with Tina wrapped around him, snuggling into his broad back. She was already dressed for work while Finn still wore his pajamas.

I studied the two for a moment, the way they looked so comfortable in one another's arms, brought a smile to my face. I didn't want to disturb their moment so I offered a quiet "Good morning," and began searching for my shoes.

"Hey Cedes!" Finn called before I could leave the kitchen. "How did you sleep?"

"Good. Thanks for letting me crash here."

"It's no problem," Tina commented, "I'm happy to finally get the chance to meet you." She shot Finn a glance I couldn't read and after sliding the last of the pancakes he made onto a plate and grabbing the syrup, he made his way out of the kitchen. Tina poured cups of coffee for the two of us and gestured for me to sit down with her at the table. I had barely gotten my coffee prepared before she began the talk she obviously wanted to have with me.

"Do you know a Sam Evans by chance?" she asked, stirring in a spoonful of creamer.

I thought she was going to drill me about bringing Finn home drunk. Temporarily relived but still tense about the actual subject matter I replied, "Yeah, we uh met kind of recently."

"Oh, he's a coworker of mine," she said stiffly. "Were you the one whose purse he found in the park?"

"Yeah, it was kind of a strange day for me."

"I'm going to be straight with you, Mercedes," she began, pushing her coffee aside and folding her hands on top of the table, "Sam and I are friends and I don't want to see him hurt. I don't know you, but he seems to be hung up on you and I don't know if I approve of that."

_Sam is "hung up" on **me**?_

"Who's to say that I'm not hung up on him as well? What do you even know about Sam and me?"

"Enough to know that he's frustrating another friend of ours because he won't stop talking about you."

I sat up straighter in my chair, mirroring her posture and leaning in to speak with her quietly but sternly. "I like Sam, Tina. We haven't known each other too long but I like being around him. If you have a problem with that, I'm sorry but it's not really up to you what we do. The same way it's not up to me what you and Finn do. But since we're examining one another's relationships, let me just say that Finn doesn't exactly shut up about you either. You work as a logo designer, you're 27, you were born and raised in Ohio, your parents are still together, and you're allergic to nuts, but more than anything, you're a sweet girl who is very much in love with my best friend."

"Wow," she whispered, falling back against her seat. I had spent more than enough time listening to Finn gush about Tina and it wasn't like me to pay no attention to something that was important to someone I cared about. If Tina was important to Finn, she was important to me as well and I couldn't afford to let her think otherwise for even a moment.

"You're not the only one with people you want to protect, honey," I continued, "Finn is like blood to me so if you mess with him you mess with me as well. I don't want to not like you; I want to care for you, to be friends with you because I don't think Finn plans on letting go of either of us any time soon. So I think it's in our best interest to get to know one another."

She nodded, stirring her coffee again before taking a long sip. Sitting her cup back on the table she said, "I'm not opposed to that plan at all. And same goes for Sam. You better treat him well or else."

"I plan to," I promised offering her a handshake to cement our little agreement.

* * *

**How are we all doing? I feel like it's been a while since I talked with everyone but I want to know what's going through your minds. Do you think Mercedes will be able to keep her agreements with both Finn and Tina? Do you think she will get everything straightened out with Mike and be able to move on with Sam? What predictions do you all have for the story? I'm curious. **

**Next chapter clue: Mercedes isn't the only one with friendship issues. **


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